Linda Barrett - Count on a Cop

by Summer at the Lake

  “Nothing.”

  But Kristin knew better. “Everything will be all right, sweetheart. One day, we’ll be home again, and—”

  “No! We can’t. We have to stay here.”

  Where it’s safe.

  The unspoken words hung in the air, piercing a veil for Kristin. She now understood that they’d never be able to return home as long as Ashley was afraid. Too bad life wasn’t a movie where you could reshoot a horrible scene.

  “You’ll have a lot to tell Dr. Kaplan tomorrow,” Kristin said, deciding to change the subject.

  “Yes—all about Quincy!” Ashley beamed at her, looking confident and happy.

  The dog was the talisman. The key. But one day, Quincy and Rick would disappear. Morningstar Lake was just a summer retreat for most people, including him. And when that happened, Ashley would be devastated again.

  Oh, no. Not if Kristin could prevent it. She’d joked with Rick that very morning about Quincy having a brother, but now she had some serious research to do. Private research. On dogs. Particularly German shepherds. Was Quincy unique? Or was he typical of the breed? She’d never owned a dog. She knew nothing about the care, feeding or training of one, but she could learn.

  Her daughter deserved all the help and love she needed to recover from her ordeal. Even if that love had to come from a four-legged friend. And even if that four-legged friend had more influence than a mother.

  “Come on, Ash. Let’s buy some treats.”

  KRISTIN AND ASHLEY returned home an hour later to find a note on their door.

  Quincy wants to play with Ashley.

  Come on over. Bring appetites.

  “Ooh, Mom. He misses me! Let’s go.”

  “After we unpack…unless you want to walk over by yourself?”

  Ashley’s eyes grew big. “On the road?”

  “I can watch you from the front porch.”

  The girl shook her head.

  “Then let’s unpack quickly.”

  The properties were only about a hundred yards apart, with another house between them. Ashley’s reaction to her suggestion reinforced Kristin’s earlier thoughts. A dog might help.

  Ten minutes later, they knocked on Rick’s screen door and heard him call, “Come on in.”

  Quincy greeted them first. He sniffed Kristin, but stuck with Ashley. And then Rick seemed to fill up the hallway.

  “I’ve got burgers ready for the grill in the back.”

  “We brought some ice cream for later.” Kristin handed him the package.

  “Well, thanks, but you didn’t have to do that, especially when I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

  A favor. Was that the reason for the invite?

  “I have a favor, too,” said Ashley. “Can me and Quincy go outside? No—wait. Can Quincy and I go outside?”

  “Sure, whatever you want,” said Rick, glancing at Kristin. “Uh—if it’s okay with your mom.”

  “Good save,” she said as her daughter and pal headed toward the back door. She followed Rick into the kitchen, where he stored the ice cream in the freezer, and then continued with him to the porch.

  “Would you like a glass of wine, Kristin? I’ve got Chardonnay or Merlot. Or would you prefer a cold beer?”

  His voice was deep, bass deep. A man’s voice. She’d gotten used to the soprano pitch around her house, but she’d missed hearing those low tones very much.

  “The Chardonnay will hit the spot,” she said. “Thank you.” She couldn’t remember the last time a man had offered her a glass of wine.

  He poured the pale liquid into two long-stemmed glasses and handed her one. “Here’s to a productive summer for all of us and a welcome to my lovely new neighbors.”

  She felt herself blush as she touched her glass to his. “That was very nice. But you don’t fool me. What was the favor you needed?”

  His grin made butterflies dance the tango in her stomach. Attractive didn’t begin to describe him. He searched a table with some papers and a laptop on it. Finally, he found what he wanted and handed it to her.

  “What do you think of this résumé? I’ve been working almost all day on it.”

  Kristin was happy to do him a favor for a change. Luckily, she’d reviewed more than a few CVs at work, since U.S. Life Corporation was growing rapidly and her department seemed to have an endless need for new junior accountants.

  She started to read and felt her jaw drop. “Holy Toledo, Rick. You can’t have a dozen objectives on one résumé. It’s too murky. A ‘jack-of-all-trades’ just doesn’t work. Who’s going to hire someone who doesn’t know what he wants?”

  “Well, I don’t know. But I’m betting someone will hire me. I’m good.”

  “You’re a good cop. I saw that. Let’s drop the objective. Put a small background summary on top instead. Maybe three sentences, no more. And then get right to your experience and education.”

  She started to read those sections. And reread them. “Are you sure you want to leave the department? You’ve accomplished so much. Four promotions, team leader, awards…”

  “Hey, I thought you hated the boys in blue.”

  “I might be convinced to change my mind.” She smiled at him. “I’m not kidding about your experience. Let’s see…have you considered going to law school?”

  “No, ma’am. That’s three years of cracking books. And a lot of money to pay for it.”

  “Consider it an investment.”

  “It’s still three years of sitting in a classroom, and that’s not me. I prefer some action. We need to think of something else. Say, what do you do in that insurance company?”

  “Nothing dangerous. In fact, I calculate the dangers other people face—people such as cops. I’m an actuarial accountant.”

  She stood up, hands on her hips. “Now, no changing the subject. Rick Cooper, are you telling me you don’t know what you want to be when you grow up?”

  “Look who’s talking! You, sweet Kristin, don’t even look like a grown-up. Ponytail, jeans, sneakers. Are you sure you’re Ashley’s mother?”

  As if on cue, Ashley’s voice rang out. “Mom, can we go to the lake by ourselves?”

  She and Rick turned toward the two friends. “Will he stay with her the whole time, not jump in for a swim or something?” she asked Rick quietly.

  “He’ll stay with her. Let her go, Kristin.”

  She nodded. “Have fun, sweetheart.”

  She watched the pair’s progress to the lake. “Ashley’s so brave with him…She talks to him nonstop. It’s as if he’s working magic with her. And he’s just a dog! I wish…I wish…”

  Rick knew exactly what she wished for, and how to make her feel better. Taking her hand, he gently tugged. “Come sit down for a minute.”

  He enjoyed the way her hand fit in his. Soft. Unresisting. Trusting. He enjoyed it too much. At this particular moment, she didn’t seem to have an issue with this particular cop. Unfortunately, he was glad. And that was a warning to him to be vigilant and not get too involved with her and her daughter.

  “Quincy and I,” he began quietly after they were seated, “have seen lots of kids like Ashley at the Children’s Crisis Center in New York.”

  Her fingers tightened around his. He had her full attention.

  “He’s a therapy dog, Kristin. We’re a volunteer team. The kids at the center have been abused, sexually or physically, or both. Quincy sensed Ashley’s distress, and that’s why he’s so good with her.”

  “But…but how…?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know how he does it. No one really understands why certain dogs are perfect for this work. All prospective canine volunteers are tested for temperament. They have to be suited for working with children. No question about that. Quincy got high marks. The highest in his group.”

  “I’ve heard of pet therapy, of course,” said Kristin, “at nursing homes and hospitals….”

  “At the crisis center, the dogs—somehow—help the kids relax, especially during their fir
st visit. They do it in a way that no person can. Not even their moms and dads.” He paused, then added, “Understand what I’m saying?”

  “I’ve been thinking of getting a dog, too.”

  “You’ve already got one. Right there.” He glanced in the direction Ashley and Quincy had gone. “But my point is that parents can’t do it alone. Quincy’s simply part of the team.”

  He watched her absorb his message, hoping he’d gotten through.

  “It’s silly of me to feel a little jealous, I know…but a mother always thinks she can fix everything. That it’s her job—to fix everything.” She squeezed both his hands. “Thanks for sharing Quincy’s background with me. I feel better. But realistically, he’s only a temporary fix. We won’t be here forever.”

  “Let’s adopt the one-day-at-a-time philosophy. It’s working for me right now.”

  She stood quickly, knocking her chair over, her face glowing with excitement. “I have an idea.”

  He got to his feet and waited.

  “Maybe you can attach a computer chip to Quincy’s ear so we can hear what she’s telling him.”

  The woman watched too many television shows. “You know, Kris, technology is great, but it doesn’t replace people skills. There’s a good chance she’ll discover the chip. She’ll resent being spied on. In my opinion, you and her therapist will succeed with her without risking her trust.”

  “Do you really think so? That we’ll succeed? Sometimes, I’m afraid that I’m making mistakes. Should I have insisted she return to school, insisted she see her friends, follow her usual routines at home? But she was paralyzed with fear. You should have seen her….”

  He cupped her cheek. “Look at me, Kris. Believe my words. I think Ashley is very lucky to have you in her corner. You’re a strong and loving mother.”

  Color stained her face, and she turned away from him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you very much for such wonderful compliments.”

  “You’re welcome.” She deserved those compliments and more. He admired her strength. And she was cute enough to make him stand at attention, which he felt himself doing right now. But she was not the type for a mindless summer fling, and he couldn’t deny his disappointment. Although he considered himself open to new relationships, a meaningful one with Kristin was out. He wasn’t getting personally involved, she wasn’t his responsibility and he wasn’t up to “saving” anyone else. So he’d settle for being neighborly. A simple friendship where he could keep a casual eye on her and Ashley.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  EARLY MONDAY MORNING, Kristin tucked her cell phone into her purse and locked the door behind her. She’d promised Ashley they’d make the round trip to the city in one day—a lot of driving but worth the effort. She’d also mentioned it to Rick the night before. After a week of daily contact, she couldn’t disappear without a word. She glanced at her daughter, who seemed cheerful and less reluctant to visit Dr. Kaplan this time.

  They’d been at Morningstar Lake for exactly two weeks now, and maybe Ash had a lot to say to the therapist. Hmm…perhaps “say” was finally becoming the right word, although Ash still avoided all reference to the attack. On the bright side, her daughter was participating in conversations when she was spoken to directly. Kristin wondered how the psychologist and Ash would make out that day.

  Behind the wheel, she reminded herself to focus on the road. The countryside was spectacular. Tall oaks, foliage-covered hills, picturesque farms with their traditional red barns and wooden gates, clusters of cows in the meadows. Beautiful. Maybe one day, she and Ash could have a summer home here. Her heart lightened. Dreaming helped.

  “Lunch before or after?” They were approaching the city now, and Kristin glanced at her daughter, who seemed to be dozing.

  Ash opened her eyes, however, and said, “After. But in a restaurant. Not at our house.”

  No surprise, but at this rate, they’d never get back home. Kristin could guess at the threats the perp had made—he’d track Ashley down, he’d hurt her mother, he knew where she lived. Child victims, however, did not communicate like adults, and Ashley had been unconscious when found. When she regained consciousness, she chose not to speak. So Kristin and her daughter had never had an in-depth conversation about the incident.

  Kristin had read a ton of material on child molestation and had been on the phone with advocates from the Sexual Assault Crisis Center from the beginning. They’d given her a list of psychiatric specialists to consider, and that’s how she’d found Sheila Kaplan.

  They crossed the Triborough Bridge and headed toward Queens on the way to Long Island. “I wonder where Rick lives,” she said casually. “I know he’s in the city.”

  “Bayside.”

  “How’d you learn that?”

  “Quincy told me.”

  Kristin almost slammed into the car ahead of her when the driver braked at that moment. “Quincy told you?” she asked in a strangled voice. Maybe they’d both lose their minds before long.

  “Not in English, Mom,” Ash said with exaggerated patience.

  Please, God, not dog language. “In Spanish?” She tried to lighten her voice.

  Ash giggled.

  Her tension disappeared as though she were a rubber band that suddenly snapped.

  “Rick tells Quincy stuff and Quincy tells me.”

  “Like where they live?”

  Ash nodded.

  “What else?”

  “Umm…cats. Quincy chases cats. Especially Butterscotch, who lives upstairs. She winds up in a tree.”

  “Dogs chasing cats is an old story.”

  “Maybe. But Quincy would rather be with me than Butterscotch. I just know it.” Ashley looked at Kristin now, her eyes gleaming. “You know what, Mom? I’m so happy that Aunt Marsha loaned us her house. I’m so happy that Rick and Quincy live near us. Rick is so nice. He kids around. I really like him.”

  Quite a voluntary mouthful. “Do you like him better than Quincy?”

  “No! Quincy comes first.”

  Kristin winked at her daughter. “After moms, of course.”

  “I love you the best, Mommy.”

  She squeezed Ashley’s knee. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

  “And I wish we could stay at the lake forever.”

  Her daughter had the last word, but Kristin’s heart ached for her. Ashley’s solution was unrealistic. As much as Kristin loved the country, too, someday…was not today.

  THIRTY MINUTES INTO Ashley’s session with her therapist, Dr. Kaplan emerged from her office and closed the door behind her. Smiling, she approached Kristin.

  “Excellent progress, Mrs. McCarthy. A real breakthrough with her verbal communication, even though she hasn’t yet broached the ‘elephant.’” The woman squeezed Kristin’s hand. “She wants to share something with you—some really great work. Wait until you see.”

  Kristin could have sworn sunlight filled the room at exactly that moment. She jumped to her feet.

  “Before we go in,” continued Dr. Kaplan, “keep in mind our discussions about progress and how it’s often made in fits and starts. Remember that every child is unique. So we’ll have to see where this goes. We’ll take our lead from Ashley.”

  So there was a little cloud along with the sunshine. But sometimes Kristin just needed to live in the moment. And this day was getting better and better.

  She followed the young psychologist into her work-place, which resembled a playroom more than a traditional office. Although there were framed credentials, a desk, file drawers and a computer, Dr. Kaplan also had two tables, several chairs, and bookcases filled with dolls, games, toys and clay, which took up most of the space.

  Ash sat at one of the tables, art supplies at hand. Even from a distance, Kristin could see her daughter’s rendition of Quincy, taking up an entire large sheet of drawing paper. She’d written the dog’s name beneath the picture.

  “This is great, Ash. He looks like the real thing.” She’d often wondered if musical ta
lent and artistic ability went hand in hand. The depiction of the silver-black shepherd was truly excellent.

  But Ashley was now immersed in a second project on a different piece of paper, in colored pencils. She motioned Kristin closer, and then continued to work. A city street. A long building, two stories high. People walking in front. An entrance with big glass doors…big display windows…people going inside…beyond the doors a marquee….

  Kristin bit her lip, her hands clenched. She easily recognized the depiction.

  Perspiration dotted Ashley’s forehead and face as she worked. Finally, she thrust the sheet at Kristin. “There!”

  The mall. In detail, from the outside. It was their mall, not any old mall. The movie theater had posters on the left side of the entrance where Kristin had dropped Ash off that day.

  “Ash! This is fantastic work. You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.” Maybe this was another breakthrough.

  “I think the country air agrees with you,” said Dr. Kaplan, smiling and closely examining the picture.

  Ashley smiled back. “I like it at the lake.”

  “Because…?” prompted the doctor.

  “It’s safe.” An instant reply. No hesitation.

  Ashley’s hands were in motion once again, fingers on the table, moving as though on a piano keyboard. She hummed under her breath. Kristin recognized the piece. Beethoven’s “Für Elise.” Her daughter could go through the entire piece without a break when she was only six. John had called her amazing and had proudly taken full credit for it!

  Kristin glanced at the psychologist. The doc smiled. “A very good day’s work,” the therapist said.

  Kristin nodded, then kissed Ash on the forehead. “We need to go now, sweetheart. Dr. Kaplan has to help other children, too.”

  Ash nodded but said, “I have to finish,” and kept “playing.”

  “How about continuing at our house?” A baby grand sat in their living room, a library of sheet music next to it in a cabinet.

  “No!” Her hands stilled. “It’s not safe.” She reached for her illustration of Quincy and added words after his name. Now the caption read “Quincy Knows Everything.”

  Kristin wished she could speak dog language. She searched the doctor’s face, then walked to the far end of the room. The therapist followed. “We have the lake house until August 1. Will we be able to go home by then?”