Heat Wave

by Jill Marie Landis

“Really. As long as you truly do want to turn things around and you testify against the others. I know how hard that’ll be on you.”

  “I’m not changing my mind.”

  “I know what’s ahead of you won’t be easy, Sunny. None of it. I’ll be the first to admit I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, but I’m trying. R.J.’s dad was like a father to me. So was my grandpa. They’re the ones I’m trying to emulate, the men I looked up to as a kid.”

  “You’re doing okay,” she sniffed. “I haven’t exactly had much practice being a daughter, either.”

  He wanted a real father-daughter relationship, the kind that inspired the lines of sappy greeting cards and put tears in a man’s eyes when he walked his little girl down the aisle.

  He wanted a bond between them that would never be broken, the kind of closeness he’d always envied R.J. and his father—hours spent together, shared hobbies, laughter, joy, and even tears.

  And he wanted Kat in their lives to make his world complete.

  Because of Kat, they would have a second chance. Over and over he silently thanked her for risking her life to save Sunny and Alice’s future, for giving him back his girls.

  She might not be able to admit she loved him yet, but now he knew for certain that she did. Tonight was a new beginning. Tonight they’d all started down a new road together.

  One step at a time, he told himself. One step at a time.

  “Thanks, Chandler,” Sunny whispered.

  He tightened his arm around her shoulder. “Hey, that’s what dads are for.”

  Chapter 37

  THREE DAYS LATER, Kat was dressed and sitting on her hospital bed waiting for Ty to pick her up. Fred Westberg walked in as her doctor walked out with the release order.

  The detective paced to the bank of windows overlooking the city, gazed out, and jingled the change in his pocket.

  “You sure you don’t need a ride home?” His bedside manner was in need of polishing. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

  “Positive. Ty’s on the way.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Don’t I look it?” One side of her face was bruised and swollen, the graze stitched closed and covered with a small bandage.

  They’d shaved her head, but only on the injured side, so she looked like a split personality—one half punk rocker.

  “How’s the kid I shot?” Her gaze dropped to her hand where the puckered scar remained.

  “He lost two fingers. You shot the gun out of his hand.”

  “I was hoping—”

  “He would have killed you if you’d been a fraction of a second later. This way he’s not up for murder and you’re still here. Two fingers are a small price to pay.”

  She looked at her left hand and thought, Some scars show; others don’t, but they’re with you forever.

  “The girl surprised me.” It was the first time he’d mentioned Sunny. “She gave a full deposition and seems more than willing to testify and name names. She’s out on bail, in her dad’s custody.” He stopped jingling coins, moved to the foot of the bed. “He’s a good guy, Vargas. I can see why you fell for him.”

  It was bad enough she’d decided not to fight it anymore. Could the whole world tell?

  “Who says I’ve fallen for him?

  “Me.”

  She walked over to where a small overnight bag occupied the only chair in the room. Ty and Sunny had gone to her apartment and packed a few of the basic necessities for her. She pretended to look through the bag while she gathered her thoughts.

  “Maybe I have.” She looked over at Fred again. “When I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

  He snorted. “Sure. Whatever.”

  She wished he’d stop smirking. He looked like he’d just solved the Black Dahlia murder.

  “Well, I’ll be seeing you, Vargas.” He headed for the door.

  She hurried after him. He stopped short, turned to face her. Kat took his hand.

  “Thanks, Fred. Now I owe you. Big time.”

  “Nah. Let’s just say we’re even. I still want to hear from you now and then, though.”

  “You bet.”

  He was gone, but a few seconds later there was a quick knock on the door and Ty walked in with an orchid lei in his hand and a smile on his face.

  His dimples, coupled with the shine in his deep-blue eyes was nearly her undoing as he slipped the lei over her head and kissed her on both cheeks.

  She cradled the lei in her hands, let her fingertips caress the blossoms, seeing them through a blur of tears.

  A lei was so much a part of life in Hawaii that no milestone ever passed without gifting someone with one. The strands of flowers were an outward expression of love that she always treasured.

  “Where did you get this?” she whispered.

  “I have my sources.”

  “You have no idea what this means to me.” She couldn’t resist raising her lips for a kiss, anxious to taste him, eager for the thrill.

  He didn’t disappoint her.

  When the kiss ended, he walked over to get her bag. “You ready to go?”

  “More than ready.”

  He paused with the overnight bag in his hand and stared out at the cityscape beyond the window.

  “What’s wrong?” She moved up behind him.

  He turned, set the bag down.

  “I was hoping you’d agree to a detour, but only if you’re up to it.”

  “I feel great. In fact, I’m up for just about anything.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” he said, but he didn’t smile.

  “What’s up?”

  “After a lot of soul-searching, Sunny’s come to a decision about Dodge.” He’d already told her about Sunny’s husband’s situation, about how he and Sunny had talked long into the night about Dodge, her life with Jamie and the others, the coming trials. “She’s been through so much that I think it’s better that she doesn’t wait. I notified the convalescent hospital, and the doctor is a hundred percent behind her decision.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Sunny wanted me to ask if you would watch Alice while we’re there. If you don’t want to, we’ll understand completely.”

  “Of course I’ll watch her.”

  “The counselor said there’s a private garden where you can wait.”

  “Are you sure Sunny doesn’t mind?”

  “It was her idea. She’s starting over, Kat. She’s grateful for what you did for her—for all of us. I know it’s asking a lot on your first day out of here, but we could use your help, if you’re up to it.”

  How could she refuse? “Of course. Let’s go.”

  THERE WAS A fountain in a shaded corner of the small garden courtyard behind the long-term care nursing facility. Birdsong added notes to the lilting splash of water. Sparrows and finches darted around the shiny leaves of well-trimmed ficus trees. A hummingbird sought sweet nectar, stabbing at blossoms on a vibrant hibiscus.

  Alone with Alice, Kat watched Ty and Sunny walk through the hospital’s double glass doors and disappear inside. She couldn’t imagine what they were facing. She focused on the child playing in the garden beside her.

  Alice smiled over her shoulder, reminding Kat of Sunny. If anyone deserved a break, it was Ty’s daughter.

  Alice toddled from bench to bench before she leaned against the lowest tier of the shallow fountain. She draped herself across the colorful tiles as Kat watched from the shade of a weeping pepper tree.

  Alice was barely tall enough to stretch over the wide edge of the pool and touch the water. Slapping the surface, she giggled at first, then began to squeal with delight when flying droplets splashed her face.

  Kat let her play a few more seconds before she wen
t over and sat on the edge of the small pool.

  “What are you up to, silly girl?” At the sound of Kat’s voice, the child immediately stopped shrieking and smiled up at her.

  “I’ll bet that smile gets you plenty of mileage with your grandpa, doesn’t it?”

  Alice tugged on Kat’s linen pants, leaving behind wet handprints. Kat obliged by settling her on her lap. She touched Alice’s baby-fine strawberry-blond hair, then ran her fingers over the soft skin of her dimpled elbow. She straightened the hem of Alice’s bright pink sundress, then rubbed the toes of her scuffed tennis shoes with yellow ducks parading on them.

  Kat tried to imagine what her own daughter might have looked like. She would be almost five now. Starting kindergarten in the fall. A bittersweet ache welled up in Kat and so did tears, but the pain failed to crush her.

  Opening up to Ty had helped. Like the scar on her hand, her heart would always carry a reminder of her loss. She might never be as strong as she was before, but she would survive.

  Alice hid her face behind both little hands and then peeked out at her.

  “Eh, Alice.” She spoke softly in lilting pidgin. “You one lucky girl.”

  Ty would become more father than grandfather to Alice. Though the toddler would never know her birth father’s love, she would have Ty’s in abundance.

  He’s a great father.

  There would still be road bumps along the way, but he was so confident and committed. Sunny was committed, too. They were a family now. Adversity had made them stronger, brought them together.

  At thirty-seven, he still had plenty of time to have more children.

  With that realization a swift sadness settled over her, but instead of fighting, she accepted it. For the first time in weeks, her indecision was behind her and she knew what to do.

  She kissed Alice on the top of her head and noted the time. It was 2:45. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for Sunny and Ty, then she gave Alice a squeeze and set her on her feet.

  Alice blissfully started splashing water again.

  THE FIRST THING Sunny noticed whenever she walked into Dodge’s hospital room was the utilitarian black-and-white clock on the wall and the way the red second hand continuously swept past the bold numerals.

  It was odd seeing a clock in this room where time never moved for Dodge. She hated to think that his essence—that vibrant, charismatic part of him that made him the leader, the Dodge she’d loved for as long as she could remember—would be forever trapped in this sterile place.

  She hoped his soul had checked out the night of his accident, that his spirit had followed her and Alice around ever since, watching over them.

  She crossed the room, careful not to make a sound as she moved to his bedside. These last few moments, these final sweeps of the red second hand were meant for her and Dodge to be alone, but before she’d stepped through the door, she’d asked Chandler to join her. She wanted him near, hoping Dodge would sense that she and Alice weren’t alone anymore.

  Unlike Jamie, her dad hadn’t begged off to wait in the hall. He was right behind her—here for her sake alone.

  He hadn’t tried to push her into making a decision about Dodge, the way Jamie had since the accident. Over the past couple of days Chandler had been nothing but supportive—patient with both her and Alice, working within the system, getting her released into his custody, getting Alice back.

  In regard to Dodge and his condition, all Chandler ever said was, “It’s up to you. We’ll find a way, no matter what you decide.”

  He’d never once mentioned how much it would cost to keep Dodge alive. Nor had he ridiculed her for hanging on to hopeless hope. Chandler never tried to tell her what was good for her or for Dodge. It was his silent acceptance and his patience more than anything that helped her come to a decision.

  Right after Dodge’s accident, she’d been overwhelmed with grief and mired in confusion. Even though he was on life support, the doctors had expected his heart to stop a few days after his brain flatlined, but when his heart kept beating, she took it as a sign that she shouldn’t give up.

  His body had stubbornly lasted far longer than the doctors predicted. She was convinced Dodge was hanging on for her and Alice, and didn’t have the will to dash all hope.

  Now, seeing him again for the first time in weeks, emaciated, slowly slipping away, she knew what she had to do, what she should have done eight months ago. The doctor in charge, the nurses who’d been taking care of him, were all waiting down the hall.

  Dodge lay suspended in time, still as death beneath the sheets. The respirator moved his lungs in a steady rhythm. Monitors blipped and beeped beside the bed with steady uniform beats of a heart that once loved her and Alice more than anything.

  She stared at his placid, peaceful face, at the beautiful features she’d known since childhood.

  They were five and running through the Angeles Crest pines, chasing each other down narrow footpaths that crisscrossed between the cabins.

  They were six, playing hide-and-seek with the other kids at River Ridge. The huge dining hall scented with wood smoke, incense, and pot. Years later they decided contact highs probably accounted for the blissful early years of their childhoods.

  They were eight, lying on the cool linoleum floor tiles, staring up at the fuzzy black-and-white television in her mom’s cabin, watching The Brady Bunch reruns, glimpsing a suburban world as foreign to them as Tasmania.

  Instead of attending public school they’d been trained by the “counselors” in how to hot-wire cars and pick pockets, shoplift, handle firearms.

  She was eleven when the Feds busted River Ridge and the kids were carted off to different foster homes.

  “You know what to do,” Dodge told her the day they were separated. “We’ll find each other again, Sunny. I’ll find you. I promise.”

  She hadn’t seen him again until she ran away from the foster home at fourteen. He’d kept his promise. He hung out around the mission until she’d been able to panhandle enough bus fare to get to Hollywood.

  From the moment they were reunited, their childhood love intensified into an exploration of bodies and senses, and from their love came Alice.

  She leaned close to the bed as she reached for his lifeless hand, found it chilled as the air around them. The room was constantly cold. He was so thin she could feel even the smallest bones beneath his flesh.

  “Hi, baby,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here for a while. I found a place for Alice. A place for me, too. A place where we’ll both be all right.”

  Before she could go on, she had to stop, draw a breath, and will herself not to crumple. She was shaking so hard she could barely stand.

  “You know I love you, Dodge. You know I said I’d do anything for you. I don’t ever want to let you go, but I’ve got to, ’cause this isn’t good for any of us anymore, not for you, or me, or Alice. We’ve . . . we’ve all got to let go and move on.”

  A tear trickled down her cheek. Captivated, she watched it roll off her hand and onto the stiff, starched bedsheet. She clung to Dodge’s lifeless fingers and let her tears flow.

  A heartbeat later, she felt Chandler’s hand on her shoulder, warm and solid. He didn’t say a word. He simply stood beside her, offering his strength the way he had in the hospital cafeteria, in the custody hearing, before the deposition.

  With her dad’s hand on her shoulder, she was able to let go of Dodge and step back.

  “Are you ready?” Chandler’s voice was thick with emotion. She looked up, surprised to see his eyes glistening with unshed tears and knew those tears weren’t for Dodge, but for her.

  “Yes.” She wanted to be brave for him, to make him proud. “I’m ready.”

  “I’ll go get the doctor.”

  When he started to walk away, the room beg
an to spin.

  “Dad? Wait.”

  He stopped, rushed to her side, quickly led her to an empty chair, and made her sit with her head down.

  She hung her head between her knees and the room slowly stopped spinning.

  Sunny was staring at his Nikes. “Is it all right if I call you Dad?”

  There was a moment’s hesitation before he answered. When he finally did, she could barely hear him.

  “Of course it’s okay.” He cleared his throat. “It’s more than okay, honey.”

  She nodded, finally able to stand on her own, growing more sure of herself and where she was going than she’d been in a long, long time.

  “I’m okay now,” she told him. “You can get the doctor.”

  TY STEPPED OUT of the hospital, thankful for the sunshine streaming down onto the center of the courtyard patio. The heat of the afternoon was a relief after the chill inside. He inhaled deeply, filled his lungs with much-needed fresh air after the smell of long-term illnesses clinging to the hospital halls.

  Kat was across the patio, playing peekaboo with Alice. He paused to admire them. Kat had her head close to Alice’s as they sat in a shaft of sunlight beside the sparkling fountain.

  It was a glimpse at a soft side of Kat that he’d rarely seen, the one she was always so careful to hide. She laughed with Alice, and the joyful sound filled the sorrow in his heart with light. Kat reached for the child and tickled her, then the two of them started blowing raspberries at each other.

  Alice spotted him first and started toddling across the courtyard as fast as her little legs could go. Then he heard the door behind him close, turned, and watched Sunny walk out of the hospital and call to Alice. She knelt down and opened her arms to her daughter, and Alice barreled right past him, into Sunny’s arms.

  Ty caught Kat watching Alice with undisguised longing and thought of the photo hidden in her desk drawer.

  Their eyes met and their gazes held. There was such a deep, abiding loneliness in her eyes that he ached for her and wondered if his love would ever be enough.

  He longed to hold her, but there would be time for that once he got her home.