“Kind of early to wake him up, isn’t it?” Nick said, pointing at the clock. It was coming up on 5:30 a.m.
Andi gave him a brilliant smile before waltzing out the door to use her phone outside. “He loves to hear from me no matter what the time.”
The comment made Carly smile, but it quickly faded when another thought came to her. “Oh, I just remembered Ned.”
“Hmm?” Nick sat on the edge of the bed while Kay moved to the head.
“They weren’t close, but Dean was Ned’s brother. I’ll need to speak to him, tell him how sorry I am.”
“Better wait until you can say exactly what happened,” Nick said, leaning down to press his lips to her forehead.
25
“YOU DON’T HAVE to stay and babysit me.” Carly patted her wet hair gingerly with a towel. She and Nick had made it to occupational health as it opened, and the doctor had put her off work indefinitely, ordering that she be reevaluated next week. As the day began, she’d showered and was ready to try to get some sleep.
Nick had kicked his shoes off and reclined on the bed. “Yeah, I do. The doctor told me to keep an eye on you today. Fernando has everything under control. Mickey is awake, and he’s been upgraded to stable. My phone is on. I can stay home and watch my wife for a day.”
“Hmph. I’m not an invalid,” she huffed without much feeling as she hung up the damp towel. Carly loved having Nick home with her, today more than usual because of her interview with homicide and the lingering anxiety from falling and not remembering.
Struggling to quell the frustration, she smoothed her still-wet hair with her fingers and curled up next to her husband. Try as she might, there was no place in her mind where she could access what had happened in that second between when she saw Dean Barton grinning at her and felt the railing give way behind her.
“I need to remember,” she said, gripping Nick’s hand. “A man is dead.”
Nick brought her hand to his lips. “We’ll pray, and you will remember.” He smiled and prayed, and in spite of everything swirling around in her thoughts, Carly went to sleep almost immediately after he finished.
•••
The first call came around 11:15 a.m. to the house landline, and it was a tip-off that the floodgates were about to open.
“Who was it?” Carly asked with a yawn and a stretch and an ow. She ached all over and felt as though she’d been in a car accident. Adding to her discomfort, she hadn’t wanted to eat before she went to sleep, so now she was starving. She ran a comb through her hair, wincing when she came to the knot her fall had left.
“Channel 2. They wanted a statement about the shooting.”
She looked up to see Nick’s brow furrowed with irritation and worry, the scar on his forehead an angry shade of red.
“What about the shooting? And how did they get our home number?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure what’s going on.”
The phone rang again and he waved a hand. “Let it go to voice mail. I’m going to fire up the computer and check the Messenger website. Why don’t you turn on the TV?”
Carly nodded and followed Nick into the living room.
The phone rang again, and a second after that, Carly’s cell phone buzzed.
The caller ID said Andi, so Carly answered. “What’s up?”
“How are you feeling?”
“Okay, I guess. A little sore.” She rolled her shoulders. “But overall fine. Why?”
She heard Andrea sigh. “Carly, that woman is evil. I can’t believe what she’s done. I can’t—” she sputtered.
“Who?” She looked at Nick, who was studying the computer. The scar on his forehead was the darkest she’d ever seen it. “Masters?” She spoke the name of the only evil woman who came to mind.
“Yes. You were worried about her safety. Do you know where she was? She was out at the state prison in Tehachapi, interviewing Drake and Tucker. Now she’s quoting them, calling you a loose cannon, saying you assassinated Dean Barton!”
“What?” Carly’s stomach turned as she remembered how much damage a newspaper reporter could do by tossing around accusations and skewing the facts.
“Alex will call you. He has the details. Right now see if you can catch the local noon news reports. I’m so sorry.”
Carly closed the phone and clicked on the TV, then moved to where Nick sat. “How bad is it?”
He shook his head. “Bad. She claims Barton told her he was afraid of you. That he knew you wanted to hurt him. She also claims that you drew down on him at the hospital for no reason and that she has the pictures to prove it. She’s screaming for an independent investigation into his death.”
Carly felt her knees weaken, and she sat down heavily next to Nick to look at the headline under breaking news. “Reporter Alleges Murder by Cop,” it blared.
Her headache returned full-force as she turned her attention to the TV screen and switched to channel 2. When the noon news report started, Carly felt jolted as if by electric current.
There was her picture as the newscasters droned on with Ginny Masters’s accusations. They quickly switched to a live shot of Masters standing in front of Half Baked and Almost Grounded. She announced that she’d learned there already was a federal investigation into the shooting death of Dean Barton, a man, she said, wiping away tears, who was trying to turn his life around until he ran into an unforgiving and corrupt police officer who didn’t believe that anyone could change. She vowed to keep the pressure on until the feds arrested a murderer.
“Officer Edwards persecuted Dean, hounded him. She was waiting for a chance to hurt him. I just can’t believe she’d kill him in cold blood. He was unarmed! It makes you wonder about every investigation this rogue officer has ever been involved in.” Masters dissolved into tears.
The television reporter took over and tried to get a comment from someone in the coffee shop. Erika was there, and she firmly told them that no one had any comment. The reporter sent it back to the studio, where the anchor read the formal police statement and said that Captain Jacobs would be holding a press conference later in the day.
Carly’s cell phone buzzed again. This time it was a text from the POA president, asking that she call right away.
She showed it to Nick.
He brought a knuckle to his lip. “I’ll call him. He’s probably going to advise we get representation.”
Carly nodded and folded her arms as he pressed the number to the Police Officers Association. Numbness spread from her head to her toes. Representation . . . I need a lawyer, burned in her thoughts.
She heard only Nick’s half of the conversation but she understood the gist. The POA president advised that she not report for any interviews until she was cleared medically. Hopefully by then more facts would surface to support her story. He also suggested an attorney be present for any talks with the feds.
Part of Carly bristled at this. She had nothing to hide; only the guilty hid behind lawyers. But she realized it was probably sage advice.
Nick ended the call and wrapped Carly in a hug. She didn’t want to cry, but it was just too much déjà vu. Nearly two years ago she’d been hounded by a false press allegation that had resulted in her being yanked from patrol and hidden away in juvenile. How can I go through this all over again?
She buried her head in Nick’s chest, knowing she didn’t shoot Barton in cold blood. That couldn’t have happened, could it?
Why can’t I remember?
26
BY THE NEXT MORNING Nick wanted to pack up the dog and get out of town for a few days. Carly was on medical leave, and he had plenty of vacation hours to burn. Ginny Masters’s front-page story ran that morning with excerpts from her interviews with Karl Drake and B. K. Tucker, the two disgraced police officers Carly had helped to put behind bars. They’d accepted plea agreements months ago but refused to testify against Burke.
Hardheaded, know-it-all, and trigger-happy were some of the phrases used to describe Carly. No
t surprisingly, the two former officers didn’t have anything nice to say. She wondered why Masters hadn’t also gone to Burke for dirt.
When Nick checked in with Fernando, he learned that a team of FBI agents had subpoenas for Carly’s personnel records. The only good news was that they were keeping a low profile, so the specifics of their investigation wouldn’t be released to the media. Carly heard that Wiley was also involved in the investigation. She figured that meant the task force was no longer in her choice column, which stung more than she expected since she wasn’t sure she really wanted the job.
Carly knew having the feds involved was good politically, that it would make the investigation completely impartial. But the cloud over her name was almost unbearable. The phone calls from news agencies were maddening. When an afternoon talk station with two loudmouthed shock jocks started piling on, even her mother called, disturbed by what she was hearing. The DJs didn’t have any of their facts straight. They said Carly shot Barton in the back and were calling for a public arrest and perp walk.
“The investigation has just started,” Kay said when she talked to Carly. “How can they say those horrible things?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I’m trying not to listen.”
Her mother had ended the call with a tearful prayer that the truth would come out soon. Carly had to blow her nose after talking to her mom, hating that the fallout from an incident she couldn’t remember was affecting everyone she cared about. She and Nick had turned the landline off and were only answering cell phone calls from numbers they recognized. It broke her heart to see all the negative press impeding her husband from doing the job he loved.
“We can’t leave now,” Carly told Nick after breakfast that morning. “You have to find out why Barton wanted Londy shot.”
“Fernando is doing a good job directing things. I trust my team.”
Carly sat at the kitchen table, where she’d been doing a devotional and trying to beat down the anger she felt toward Ginny Masters. But the anger gushed anew, burning through her like a swath of molten lava. I’ve been through this before, she thought, but I wasn’t with Nick then. Seeing how it’s affecting him is just about more than I can bear.
Why, Lord? Why?
She’d been reading in Psalm 62, how David waited quietly for the Lord, how he counted on the Lord to fight his battles and the Lord never failed him. “My victory and honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me.” Holding that thought, she closed the Bible and went to where Nick stood leaning in the doorway. She put her hands on his face and looked into his blue eyes, eyes that always calmed and grounded her.
“Hey, I have to believe that God and the truth will clear me. Until then, I refuse to hide, and you can’t either. You need to be with your guys right now.”
He gave her a half smile, took one of her hands from his face, and kissed the palm. “I guess that Christian stuff really took with you, huh?”
She laughed. “I hope it did. I married a guy who is a strong Christian, and it makes our marriage so special.”
He pulled her close and pressed his lips to her forehead. “That guy you married still sometimes needs to be reminded of who is in control.”
“Don’t we all.” After a minute of enjoying his warmth and closeness, she moved back and pushed against his chest. “Why don’t you go to work to make sure things are going smoothly? Get home by six and we can go to church together. We haven’t gone to a midweek Bible study together in a while.”
This time he pressed his lips to hers before he agreed and left her to change for work.
•••
Nick hadn’t been gone long before Andrea pulled up. It was her day off, and she brought some DVDs to watch.
“Alex is on his way home,” she said as she sat on the sofa and opened a bag of chips. “He and his father left San Francisco an hour ago, so they should roll into town in time for Alex to go to church tonight. He really wants to talk to you and would have phoned but decided a face-to-face is better.”
“I hope he didn’t cut his trip short on account of me.” Carly reached into the bag and grabbed a handful of chips, mostly to stifle a smile. Andi had been incredibly resistant to church until she started seeing Alex. Now she talked about church as if it were as comfortable to her as a hair salon. Carly was glad to see the outward change, knowing an inward change couldn’t be that far away.
“Are you kidding? He’s been dying for an excuse to come home. He would have flown but he can’t get his dad on a plane.”
“Is his dad going to live with him then? For good?” Carly opened a Diet Coke.
Andrea shrugged. “Alex is calling it a visit. Truth is, he doesn’t think his dad can live by himself right now.”
Carly was about to hit Play when her cell phone buzzed. “It’s Joe,” she said after checking the screen. Her partner had had his knee surgery the day before, and Carly wanted to talk to him.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
Joe’s concerned voice brought a lump to her throat and a keen awareness of how much she missed him. He’d just had his knee cut on, and he was concerned about her. She worked to stay as upbeat as possible, reminding herself over and over that God was in control. When she hung up, she saw Andrea regarding her with a bemused expression.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just . . . well, it’s good to hear you so positive and upbeat. I don’t think I would be under the same circumstances.”
Carly sipped her Coke. Maddie jumped up next to her on the couch and gave her a look that said she wanted a chip. Carly fed her one.
The gravity of her situation was bearing down on Carly every minute. Masters was accusing her of cold-blooded, premeditated murder, of violating every single thing she stood for.
“I’m angry, Andi. Furious. But what do you want me do? Charge around like the loose cannon that woman is calling me?”
“No, no. But I remember a time when you’d have been more fired up. And I wish we could hit her in the face with a pie or something.”
Carly laughed. “I’m afraid that right now I’d hit her with something harder. I just wish I could remember exactly what happened.”
Andrea pulled a pillow into her lap and leaned forward. “Do you want to go over it? Maybe talk it through? It could jog your memory.”
Before Carly could answer, there was a knock on the door. Maddie jumped down to run to the door and bark.
Carly shushed the dog and looked at Andrea. “You didn’t invite anyone else to this movie party, did you?”
Andrea shook her head. “You want me to see who it is?”
“It might be a news crew or that obnoxious radio station. They’ve been such a pain. I can’t believe they got our home number. Hate to say I wouldn’t be surprised if they got our address as well.”
Andrea stood up as the knock sounded again. “I can send them away with some legalese I learned from Law & Order.”
Carly held on to Maddie as Andi answered the door.
“Carly, it’s Ned and Erika!”
Carly went to the door, not certain what to expect. She didn’t see anger in their faces.
Instead, Erika smiled and held up a thermos of coffee in one hand and a pastry box in the other. “Carly, we wanted to come and say that we hoped you were doing all right.”
“And that we’re sorry for all the trouble Dean caused you,” Ned added. “Would you accept this offering and talk with us?”
The foursome settled around the kitchen table. They’d brought Carly’s favorite French roast coffee and an assortment of pastries. Even on top of the chips and Diet Coke, the sweet stuff was welcome.
“We’ve been chasing newspeople away from the shop since yesterday,” Erika said as she plated the pastries and handed them around. “It wouldn’t be so bad if they bought something, but all they do is pester.”
“Even in Arizona, they were bothering my parents.” Ned poured coffee. “My dad just decided to take my mom out o
f the country to get away from them.”
“I’m so sorry,” Carly said, still surprised and unsure about the couple’s presence. “I mean, in spite of everything, he was your brother.”
Ned set the thermos down, reached across the table, and put his hand over Carly’s. “I don’t blame you for Dean’s death. I’d be lying if I said I felt nothing. I’m sad that Dean never could turn his life around. But one thing I learned in the military was how to size people up. And no matter what, I don’t for a second believe you murdered him in cold blood like that woman is saying. That’s not your style.”
Tears threatened as Carly held Ned’s gaze. Where she had feared she’d see accusation, all she saw was warmth and friendship. Until he’d spoken, she hadn’t realized how much she’d been worried about what he thought and believed.
She swallowed. “Thanks, Ned. Thanks.” She sipped her coffee.
Andrea jumped in. “Just what did your brother have going with that reporter, anyway?”
Erika held up an index finger and glanced at Ned before answering. “That was something we wanted to tell you, Carly. We think she met him in Arizona, but her name was different then.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Ned said. “After our last talk we made some calls and my dad did some checking. Apparently there was a woman who wrote a story on Dean after he was arrested six years ago. She went by the name Virginia Masterson. She was a local gadfly in city government with some kind of agenda against police officers. My dad didn’t remember specifics. But the local paper did publish a three-part article on Dean.”
Ned sighed. “He followed my parents to Arizona when they moved, but he never got work. He was living in his car at the time he was arrested. Anyway, this Masterson was sympathetic to Dean then, and after he was arrested, my mother remembers her calling and asking questions about why my father disowned Dean. They remember it vividly because the woman insinuated my parents were heartless and cruel to leave him out in the cold and that that was the reason Dean ended up in prison.”
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