Diamond Lake Series: Complete Series (Bks 1-7) Boxset

by T. K. Chapin

  Laughing, I peered back at my car with a smile and then at Peter. "That's my car. I'm taking a half-day to hang out with you."

  He smiled. "Really? What are we going to do?"

  "That's a surprise." I took a seat beside him in the grass, and Peter lay back down in the grass, his eyes soaring back to the clouds. "Tomorrow, we'll get you enrolled in school, Peter."

  Eyebrows furrowing, he crashed back to earth. Turning his head, he shielded his eyes from the sun and asked, "What about my mom?"

  I tried not to let the sad reality weigh my lips into a frown. Lying down beside him, I looked to the sky and said the three words I didn't want to say. "I don't know."

  Twisting his body, Peter lay belly down in the grass, pointing toward the house. "Could Shawn and Oakley come with us today?"

  I hadn't thought of inviting anyone to tag along with us. It could disrupt my intentions of father-son bonding, but when I turned and saw his eyes, I couldn't say no. The hopeful glimmer in his eyes softened my reserve. Forbes's words ran through my mind. It was about Peter having fun, not about something I wanted. "Yeah, bud. If it's all right with Esther, it's all right with me."

  We got up and went into the house. As we went through the front door, I told him to go play and not to mention anything to the other kids while I discussed the idea with Esther. He ran off and headed upstairs, skipping steps as he went to join the other kids.

  Esther’s eyes followed Peter until he vanished. A smile appeared on her lips.

  "Could we talk?"

  Tilting her head, she said, "Did I do something?"

  Raising a hand, I smiled and let out a chuckle. "No, not at all. It's just an idea."

  Breathing a sigh of relief, she pressed her hand against her chest and the smile returned. "Oh, good. I'm sorry. You're the Chief, and—"

  "I understand."

  "Let me get you a cup of coffee."

  I nodded and she led me into the kitchen and to a small wooden table that sat off the kitchen near a window. Pulling out a chair as she went over and poured us coffee, I saw a bouquet of fresh flowers in a vase on the table. Leaning in before I sat, I breathed them in, letting the smell of freshly cut flowers fill my senses.

  "You got off early today," she said over at the counter. Her back was to me and I sat down.

  "Yeah. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

  She arrived at the table and handed me the cup. Taking a sip of my coffee, I set it down. "How'd you know how I take it?"

  "You didn't have creamer at your house," she replied, taking a seat across from me. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

  "We're going to Silverwood, and Peter would like it if your kids came along too."

  Her eyes skipped from mine and over to the flowers on the table for a moment before returning once again to mine. She looked hesitant, a bit uneasy by the idea. "I’m not sure about it. They have their schoolwork to tend to, and I'm not really ready to go."

  Sitting back in my chair, my eyebrows rose. She’d thought I’d invited her. Though I had no reservations about her going, I found it strange that she assumed I meant her too. "I meant just the kids."

  "Oh . . ." She appeared upset now. A deep red blush was expanding across her complexion, originating from her neck.

  Awkwardness thickened the air as seconds turned into minutes. I rose to my feet. "Let's just forget it. I—"

  "No." She stood up, her emerald green eyes locked onto mine. I felt a twinge of electricity come through me, and then I saw it—hope. Hope was in her eyes. "I know you didn't invite me. I was just hoping I could invite myself. I'm sorry I’m so odd. If you want to take the kids, that's fine. They'll have time to finish their schoolwork later."

  I couldn't take my eyes off her for a solid twenty seconds. Doesn't seem like a long time, but it is. The gentleness in her essence and her honesty softened my heart. I wanted her to go now. "You should come."

  Shaking her head, she said, "It's just a pity invite. I don't need that." She headed over to the counter and began wiping the empty sink down with a washrag.

  Walking over, I stopped her with a gentle touch on her hand. Esther’s eyes found mine again. "Please. I want you to come with us. I am glad you invited yourself. It’s a great idea."

  She hesitated a moment longer, but then she smiled warmly. "Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be ready."

  Chapter 9

  AFTER THE THIRD ROLLER COASTER RIDE, two of the three kids found themselves with heads hung over the wastebasket just outside the exit gate for the ride. Esther and I stood side-by-side as we exchanged stories and reminisced about our childhood memories of visiting the theme park.

  "The first time I was standing in line for the Tremors roller coaster and saw that sign with the decapitated animation, I freaked."

  A laugh escaped her lips as she tossed her head back. "Right? How terrifying for a kid to see!"

  "Let's go again!" Peter exclaimed, wiping the corner of his mouth as he strode up to me. His eyes gleamed. He seemed to have abandoned his worry over his mother, at least for a moment. He hadn't even mentioned her name since we arrived at the park. He was too overwhelmed by all the stimulation of the rides and sweets to worry, and Henry's words were making more sense by the hour.

  Love for this child had already taken root in my soul and was now beginning to blossom like a lily in summer as it bathes in the warmth of the sun. Part of me also began to worry. His mother could show up and threaten to shatter what was beginning to grow. Making a vow that day between the Timber Terror and Tremors roller coasters, I swore I'd never let anything happen to him.

  **

  It was dark by the time we made it back to Newport that evening. All the kids were out by the time we pulled into the driveway at Esther’s house at ten o'clock. Assisting Esther, I carried her boy Shawn in while she carried little Oakley. Carefully, I lay the boy into his bed and covered him up. I exited the room, meeting Esther in the hallway.

  Esther tilted her head as she smiled and we headed downstairs. In a whisper, she said, "It was a lot of fun today, Brody. Thank you."

  Arriving at the doorway, I turned to her. My eyes caught the stairs behind her that led up to the bedroom and I recalled all the events of the day. I smiled.

  "I like that," she said.

  "What?" I questioned, returning my gaze to her.

  "Your smile. It's genuine."

  "I smile all the time," I retorted.

  "But it's different now. Even just from the other day at Doctor Ekker’s office." Her eyes glided past me and out to my car still idling in the driveway with a sleeping child. "That boy has changed you, Brody. He lights up your whole face."

  Turning my head, I glanced over my shoulder and then directed my eyes back to Esther. "It's true. The kid is growing on me."

  "It's so cute that he wears your ball cap."

  "That thing is so ragged, but he loves it." Letting out a sigh, my eyes fell upon her again. Anxiety edged up to my lips. "Honestly, I'm scared of what his mother will do if she shows back up."

  Her hand found my hand and she smoothed her thumb across the top. "You'll figure it out. I know you will. We all have struggles, and it can be hard, but all is possible when we lean on the Lord."

  Nodding in agreement, I knew the night was escaping us and I needed to get home. Leaning in, I lightly kissed her cheek. "Goodnight."

  Turning the car off, I opened my car door and caught sight of Peter in the rear-view mirror. He was still sound asleep, and a hint of a smile sat on his lips beneath the shadow of his cap. My heart warmed. This kid showed up on my doorstep out of nowhere less than a week ago. My eyes welled with tears as I thought of how God knew Jess would drop him off that morning.

  I got out and shut the door, wiping my eyes before retrieving Peter from the back seat. Scooping him into my arms, I carried him up to my house and into his bedroom down the hall. Laying him down onto his bed, I covered him up and kissed his forehead as I said, "I love you."

&n
bsp; Chapter 10

  ONE OF THE PERKS OF living in a small town is the ease and quickness of getting everything done. Lines down at the Department of Motor Vehicles, for example, don't exist, and getting across town only takes minutes where in a big city, like Seattle, it would take hours because of traffic. Enrolling Peter the next day—Friday—took less than an hour, and he was off to his third-grade class with Mrs. Hemier. There was a bit of a complication that morning since I didn’t have the guardianship in place yet and the office ladies gave me a little grief. Luckily, I knew the principal, Mr. Wadsworth, and he intervened, allowing Peter to enroll.

  Arriving at the police station, I was unsettled when Tracy handed me a message with Jessica's name on it. Without reading it, I took the little pink piece of paper with the message and went into my office. Drawing my blinds and closing the door, I took a seat at my desk. My pulse raced as I read the words, We need to talk. Meet me at The Spot at noon. - Jess.

  The Spot she was referring to was a slab of cement with a bench that sat about fifty yards away from the bridge at Riverfront Park. The view of the Spokane Falls was breathtaking from there and the reason we nicknamed it The Spot after watching several sunsets in the summer of our senior year in college. I didn't mind agreeing to meet her, but I did mind the fact that she wanted to talk in a location that we had shared memories of a lost love. She even called it by the nickname we used to call it. I hoped she didn't want to pick at old scabs and try to bandage the hurts of the past. I wanted Peter in my life, but I didn't have even an ounce of desire to be with her.

  The rest of the morning consisted of my weekly and daily paperwork as Chief of Police. Taking off down to Riverfront Park at about eleven that morning, I gave myself enough time to find a parking spot and to stroll the park. I hadn't walked the paths of Riverfront Park in years.

  Coming to Inspiration Point, I recalled a memory of my father and me when I was a boy. He nicknamed his favorite fishing spot Inspiration Point. It was out on Long Lake in Nine Mile Falls, just outside Spokane. Pine trees taller than buildings dotted the trail that ran alongside the lake that started just after the watering hole the locals swam in during the summer months. It took about twenty minutes to hike down to the spot, and if you weren't careful, you could catch a loose rock with your feet and fall right into the lake. Luckily, I didn't know that from experience. I could almost smell the fish in the air while recalling the treasured memory of my father. He would have liked Peter. I knew it.

  When noon finally rolled around, I crossed the old cement bridge over the falls. It wasn't long before I saw her sitting on the bench in the distance. There she was, the past that had mysteriously entered my life and dropped off a piece of DNA on my doorstep. Her hair was up, but in a messy bun. A black-colored hoodie that was three times too big hid the beautiful frame I knew she had kept.

  Approaching, I could feel my heartbeat pick up tempo like a melody reaching a crescendo. Her head cranked to the left as she peered back at me. A frown shifted to a smile on her lips. "Brody," she said, her voice soft, delicate, and almost difficult to hear over the sound of the rushing falls not far off.

  "Jess." Looping around the bench, I sat down beside her.

  "We used to come here a lot, didn't we?" she asked, tilting her head. Her eyes caught mine and I could see the hope I feared I'd see. Pushing aside the gnawing gut-feeling she wanted to make things work, I nodded and turned my eyes to the water.

  "Yeah. That was a long time ago." Swallowing the lump in my throat, I thought about my son—our son. I shook my head. "Why'd you hide him from me, Jess?"

  Catching a strand of her own hair between her fingers, she placed it behind an ear. "Originally, I’d planned for you to know. I was even going to drop him off after I had him. But when he was born, my priorities changed. I looked into his little eyes and knew I would do whatever it took to keep him. You would’ve taken him from me, Brody. I smoked pot back then, and you ran off and joined the Police Academy after graduation and became a Christian. I needed a chance to prove to myself and to you that I could do it before you met him. Then it just got harder and harder to tell you, especially after I met Anthony. I messed up, and I am sorry. I thought maybe if I changed and was good enough to raise a baby, maybe I would’ve been good enough for you too . . .”

  She wanted to pick at the scabs of the past. Standing up, I held out a hand to stop her. "Don't try to go there. You were with Anthony. We both moved on, Jess."

  She began to weep.

  My jaw clenched. "The past is the past. Is this what you brought me here for? Not to talk about the fact you never showed up for Peter? He was heartbroken."

  Her chin dipped, revealing the back of her head and neck. A set of purple bruises became visible just below her hairline on her neck.

  "What happened to your neck?" I asked, taking a step closer to inspect further.

  Jerking her head up, she wiped her eyes with both hands. "You don't care. Don't try to pretend you do. Where is my son?"

  "I know about the ring you pawned. Who was that man with you in the pawn shop and in the alley by the theater? Did he hit you?" Placing a hand on her shoulder, I leaned down as she began to cry more. "I can protect you and Peter."

  She began to laugh as she shook her head and raised her eyes. "No, you can't. Where is Peter?"

  Slipping my hand off her shoulder, I took a step back. "He's at school. I enrolled him."

  She nodded as she slipped into some unknown thought. Returning to a moment later, she asked, "Is he happy?"

  "Yes." Thinking of her neck, worry edged my mind. "He's safe. Tell me what's going on, Jess. Please."

  She stood up and wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. Licking her lips, she shook her head. "Wow, stalk much? I'm just paying off a debt, but I’ll get my ring back. Don't worry about anything with me."

  “Who was the guy who hurt you in the alley? And who was with you in the pawn shop?”

  “Same guy. That’s Eli. A friend.”

  Shaking my head, I asked, “A friend who hits you?”

  She scowled. “You don’t know my life, Brody. You don’t get to judge me like that.”

  I took a breath and recomposed myself. It wasn’t my business, and the image quality wasn’t good enough to get a positive ID on the guy in the video footage. Recalling my vow to let it go, I dropped it and shifted to a more meaningful topic. “What’s going on with you and Anthony?"

  The name brought her eyes wide. A fear hidden in the depths of her soul seemed to be triggered by the name. Whoever this man was, it struck fear in both her and Peter. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "Did Peter talk about him?"

  Adjusting my footing, I folded my arms. "Yeah. Who is he?"

  "He's none of your business. I want my son back, Brody. Really, I thought I could do this, but it's not working out. I miss him."

  "It's not about you," I said firmly as fear edged my voice. "He needs to be safe."

  "You can't keep him from me.” She stood up and stepped toward me, only inches from my face. A crazy look consumed her eyes. "He's my son. I've been raising him for seven years. I want him back!"

  "You abandoned him. I filed for custody."

  She took my hand and her expression softened as she shook her head and tears rolled down her cheeks. "We could have been together. We could have made this work and been a family." She was jumping from thought and feeling to thought and feeling like a kid playing hopscotch on the playground.

  Pulling my hand away from hers, I shook my head. "You lied to me and hid my child from me for seven years. It would've never worked. No matter what happens, he will be in my life from now on."

  "We'll see about that." Her eyes squinted and she turned to the bench and grabbed her purse. Taking off down the sidewalk, she left me with more questions and now, worry that she might do something drastic.

  **

  Being alone with my thoughts for the entire evening didn't sound appetizing, so I invited Esther and her children over for a visit and
dinner. It'd be a nice mental break from the never-ending replay of my earlier conversation with Jess at the park.

  Esther and the kids were due at any moment, and I was hustling to finish up the sauce for a batch of my family's famous spaghetti. The Jenkins family had a secret recipe for the sauce that had been handed down through the generations. It all began in Mississippi in the back country with Uncle Chuck years ago. He had a bit too much to drink one evening and had accidentally knocked a container of sugar into the sauce when Aunt Mary was out of the kitchen. The results were so good, Uncle Chuck confessed to the whole thing and the family sauce recipe was born.

  The doorbell ascended and descended in chimes, raising my heartbeat as I anticipated setting eyes on Esther. She was a beautiful woman and my thoughts were drifting to her more and more by the day.

  "I'll get it," Peter said, passing by the kitchen doorway as he headed for the front door.

  "Thanks, bud," I said as I peered over at him while I stirred the sauce.

  Esther walked into the kitchen a moment later and I lifted my eyes from the pot of steamy sauce on the stove. I broke into a smile. Not just any smile, but one of those smiles you get when you see someone you enjoy being around. Her gorgeous emerald-green eyes matched the sweater she was wearing, causing her eyes to stand out in a way that could only be called beautiful.

  "Brody." Hearing my name come off those lips would have been all-inclusive lovely, but the way in which she said it caused me worry.

  Setting the wooden spoon down beside the sauce pan, I tossed the towel from my shoulder onto the counter and made my way around the island to her. My hands came up to her sides and grazed her arms gently. Eye to eye, I asked, "What is it?"

  Her lips tightened and her eyes glistened.

  My mind cycled through our time together, looking for hints of any issue. Then I landed on something I had noticed at her house the other day. Raising my eyebrows, I asked, "Does this have something to do with whoever gave you those flowers?"