“Nearly three years ago.”
Three years. Dear God, that was a horrific percentage in this kid’s life. She bit down a lump of regret. “You’ll let me know.”
“Me and the sheriff’s department. They’re working hand in hand with the feds. They know you’re the whistle-blower. Now if we’re right, and can retrieve the kid with no altercation…”
That was the question of the hour, getting the kid without risking life or limb to anyone. A kid can’t offer testimony if he’s dead. Total surprise was huge in something like this. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do. I hate being sidelined.”
“I know. But you did the right thing. The right way. Always do.”
How she wished that was true. “Thanks, Felix. I’ll be in touch.”
“You do that. And come visit, won’t ya’? You’re missed kid.”
Cress noted he didn’t urge her back. Was that weird or did he have an understanding of what she’d gone through? And did the entire department have it figured out, or just the detective division? Either way, all of a sudden the big city took on small town proportions. Foolishness swept her, realizing she’d tried to fool a full staff of top-notch detectives.
Yeah. Right. Good luck on that one, Crescent.
“Felix, thanks. You’ve got no idea how much this means.”
“I think I do. You hang tight, okay? And if that hometown of yours is still as pretty as I remember from camping near there, it’s not a bad place to call home.”
“I hear you.”
Loud and clear. Felix’s advice was to get out while the gettin’s good. Sage words.
From her vantage point on the covered rotunda of the cancer wing, Cress surveyed the scene before her. Busyness reigned mid-day, the small city teeming with workers, commuters, and travelers bent on seeing the leaves as they changed color. A half-hour away was home, the home she’d known for twenty years. Safety and serenity abounded there, a peace she hadn’t sought as a younger woman. Right now she wondered why she thought heading off, moving up and away was ever a good idea. What had she hoped to find? Moreover, what had she lost?
“Hey.”
She turned, not surprised that Alex had come, had found her, wanting to offer support, knowing what she refused to put into words. How hard it was to watch Gran’s treatments, to witness the hair loss, now complete, the tiredness framing the old gal’s face, the weariness in her eyes.
Chin dipped, his dark eyes full of warmth and understanding, he opened his arms. She stepped into the embrace, loving the feel, loving him, wondering how on earth she’d ever mistaken what she’d felt for James as love. Lust, yes. And they’d had a great working relationship at the beginning, built on trust, but once the trust eroded into painful reality, she began to doubt herself. Her instincts. Her wisdom.
Around Alex, the opposite held true, an incomparable difference, amazing in its simplicity.
If only she’d realized sooner…
“You smell good.”
She laughed, enjoying the feel of his hug, the smooth, sweet high-fiber wool of his classy suit coat, the lingering smell of aftershave, shower gel and a hint of bacon. “You had breakfast at the diner.”
“How’d you know?”
She sniffed on purpose. “Bacon.”
He grinned. “Really? Must be your detective nose. Speaking of which,” he angled his head, his expression admiring, “I’m supposed to tell you there might be a connection between the boy you saw and an abduction that occurred nearly three years ago in—”
“Nebraska,” she finished for him. At his look of surprise, she held up her cell phone. “A friend at MPD ran a check. He’s the one who shared the info with the feds and the sheriff’s department. How’d you hear?”
“Cruz. The sheriff stopped around Gran’s place but no one was there and he wanted you to know the feds were taking over.”
“Meaning ‘don’t step on toes or do anything rash’.”
“Most likely.”
Cress worked her jaw, then compressed her lips and shrugged. “I can’t deny that I like to make the collar. But there’s another part of me that examines a take down from every angle, wanting optimum outcome. In this case, I’m alone, gimpy and not as sure of my instincts as I should be. I can own that and step back.”
“Where are Mel Gibson and Danny Glover when you need them?” Alex’s grin said he understood her frustration.
She smiled. “Exactly. And didn’t Rene Russo look great as a cop?”
“Those scars…” Alex pretended an admiring tone. “Everywhere…”
“Stop. I have a few of those myself.” Her reminder made her leg twitch just a smidge.
“I can kiss them and make them better.”
Her smile up-surged into a grin of understanding. “I bet. Hey, did you stop by Gran’s treatment room?”
He nodded. “That’s how I knew you were out here. Audra told me. She also let me know that most of the town is buzzing because you went for ice cream with me and the boys, held my hand, and defended me in public.”
“All I did was get you out of there,” she protested. “I didn’t even open my mouth.”
“Then your expression spoke volumes. It seems the entire counter was ready to lay down bets if things got physical.”
“Physical?” She blushed and he grinned.
“Not between us, though I can’t deny the more-than-occasional thought in that general direction. Between you and Missy.”
“The Sea Witch? People really considered betting against me? I could take that old –”
Alex put a calming finger to her lips. His gaze noted the finger and her mouth, an eyebrow hiked. “Have you noticed how often I have to do this, Crescent? Shush you to save you from yourself? It could get to be a habit.”
She licked his finger.
His gaze went from teasing to tormented in a heartbeat. “We’ll discuss that later, young lady. For the moment, I need to focus on work.”
“You didn’t head here just to see me and Gran? Counselor, I’m hurt.”
“Correction: I would have headed here just to see you. Sneak in a kiss.” He grinned at her reaction. “But I also had some things to follow through on at the county offices, so I’ve got to head over there, make some heads roll. Nothing slower than government at its best.”
“You’re annoyed.”
“And then some. Can I see you later?”
She shook her head. “I’m hanging close tonight. Gran gets fidgety when I’m not there and if she gets sick like she’s done before, I want to be on hand.”
“Then I’ll stop by after football practice.”
She leaned into his chest, feeling so good it almost felt… wrong.
But it wasn’t wrong. Was it?
Thoughts of Gran’s farmland, the promised park that never happened, shadowed her magnanimous feelings, niggling her with doubt and concern.
She pushed them away.
They refused to move for long.
Like you’re so good at sizing up men. Right. Tell it to the ER staff, honey.
Alex’s arm around her shoulders offered a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll see you tonight. After I shower.”
She frowned. “Come sweaty. No one will care and it gets you there half-an-hour sooner.”
“For?”
She met his look and hoped he read the longing in hers. “That kiss, perhaps?”
“I might be tempted to skip practice altogether in that case.”
“Except the kids need you.”
“They do.” He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss, the warmth of his mouth softening more of her armor. “See you later.”
“Mm hmm.”
He grinned as he headed for the door, whistling some sort of classical tune with a skill she could only envy. Nobody whistled anymore. Did they?
The tune wafted back to her as Alex went through the door. The thought of hearing that cheerful sound, so comforting, so Alex, on a regular basis, sent a surge of awareness through
her.
She wasn’t only falling for him, she was embedding herself in the place, the here and now. As Audra approached bearing twin cups of coffee, Cress returned her smile and reached out a hand of acceptance, the scent of fresh brew a welcome afternoon reprieve. Nope. Being home wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
*
“How long?” A mix of disgust and amazement colored Alex’s tone. He hoped the gal from environmental services took the hint.
She grimaced. “I know. I’m sorry. Everything’s bogged down. It’s like a total paperwork bottleneck.”
Alex stepped closer to the closed office door, hiking his voice to penetrate the thick, planked oak. “Then you let our good representative know I’m not happy, won’t you, Sandy? That I have every intention of letting the local media know I’ve dotted my I’s and crossed my T’s and still can’t shake the approval for the parkland loose. In the meantime I look like a half-wit and the kids have nowhere to play, all because of a relatively simple signature that would clear the way for parkland development, including tying us into some pretty sweet federal grant money.”
Her expression commiserated. Without the official signature, the Brownfield Exclusion necessary for clean-up and development was dead in the water, for no good reason other than her supervisor was a candidate for the state senatorial seat opening in January. With the election looming, he wanted to look good at the right moment.
Alex had decided the right moment was now.
The door opened.
Alex leaned in, aligned his left foot strategically in the opening and glared. “Sign off on the Westlands green space now. Please.” At the moment Alex didn’t care that his ‘please’ sounded aggressive. He wanted permission to move forward, and he wanted it now. Seeing Gran in the hospital bed, her gray pallor offering testimony to the gravity of her illness, added fire to his words.
Dick Thompson sighed, ran a hand through his hair and stepped back. “Are you always this annoying? It’s nap time.”
Humor didn’t rank high on Alex’s list at the moment. He moved into the office while Dick closed the door behind them. Dick waved a hand to the chairs, passed his hand through thinning hair again, then re-took his seat behind the desk. “Without yelling at me, tell me what you want. And I’ve got a monster sinus headache, so small words and an easy tone would be appreciated, despite the vigor and angst of youth rolling off you like waves on Lake Michigan with a Nor’Easter.”
“My Brownfield Exclusion approval for the park land development adjacent to the Westlands housing tract just outside Watkins Ridge. Simply put I need it now. Today. An old woman is sick and I promised her a park dedicated to her family. I mean to deliver.”
Dick frowned, nodded, and hit the intercom button. “Sandy, have you got the approval letter for The Westlands park exclusion out there?”
“Yes, sir.”
Alex groaned inside.
Dick grinned. “Can you bring it in here, please? And steam the stamp off the envelope, will you? We need to watch the bottom line carefully.”
“She could have told me,” Alex grumbled.
“And miss all this fun?” Dick smiled as Sandy walked through the door with a sealed envelope.
She held it aloft. “Who gets this?”
“He does.”
“I do.”
She handed the envelope to Alex and then turned Dick’s way. “Anything else, sir?”
“No, thanks. Watching lawyers squirm is the best part of my job. Thanks for the opportunity, Sandy.”
“Any time, sir.”
Alex slit the envelope open, eyed the approval letter, and gave a satisfied nod. “Now we can get going, at least with the preliminaries. It won’t be done until next fall, but just getting it started will make Gran breathe easier.”
“Your grandmother’s land?” Dick hiked a brow, his tone commiserative.
Alex shook his head. “An elderly friend who’s fighting cancer. The park’s going to be dedicated to her family, their legacy here.”
Dick shifted his look to the papers in Alex’s hand. “Some legacy. Illegal dumping of toxic pollutants to uplands with distinct watershed slope properties. I’m sure her family will be so proud.”
Alex held up a hand of caution. “They have no idea any of this occurred. No knowledge of the dumping or the level of toxins, or the necessary exclusions to do clean up and employ Super fund grants to get this right. Other than the legalities,” he jerked his head toward the sheaf of papers in his other hand, “I’ve kept this under wraps. No good will come of telling her at this stage and the clean-up will take care of any potential problems.”
“How have you explained the delay?”
Admitting this made Alex cringe. “I hedged and told her that making it parkland meant studies had to be done to show we wouldn’t adversely affect watershed and/or create a flooding effect to houses down slope.”
“Basically true and fundamentally sound. Good job, Westmore. Who’d a thought? A lawyer with a freakin’ heart.”
“Keep that to yourself,” Alex warned as he stood. “Along with this.” He nodded to the Brownfield Exclusion.
“It will be part of the public record,” Dick advised. He stood as well. “Can’t hide that.”
“But we don’t have to tout it,” Alex replied. “Thank you.”
“Eh.” Dick nodded, but frowned with remorse. “I should have gotten on it sooner. You were right to be upset. Still, it made for a good mid-day show and I’d have paid good money to see you posturing outside my door, ready to pounce.”
“Sandy would have protected you.”
Dick barked a laugh. “Sandy’s my ex-wife. She probably enjoyed it more than I did, half-hoping you’d take a pop at me.”
“You work together?”
“Two kids, amicable divorce. We work well together. We don’t live well together.”
“That’s sad.”
“That’s life, Westmore.”
Alex hoped he was wrong. Prayed he was wrong. Thoughts of Cress flashed through his mind, little warning signs popping up alongside. Could he make a difference to her? Or better yet, should he try?
What Alex didn’t want were careless vows of love that led to things like amicable divorces ten years later. Not if he could help it.
Marriage was a bond, a vow taken before friends and family. Before God. A serious pledge of forever. After witnessing his parents’ downfall, Alex wanted the real thing. Trust. Faith. Hope. Love. Was that so much to ask?
Lindi’s flight to Florida came to mind, only one of several breakups he’d seen the past two years. The kid inside him, the kid who longed for normal in the thick of dysfunction, wanted the dream.
He offered Dick a hand. “Thank you. I’ll get started on this asap.”
Dick returned the handshake, affable. “You’re welcome. At this point anything that makes the voters happy, makes me happy.”
His run for the vacant state senate seat had heated in recent days as his opponent instigated a dirt-digging frenzy, a great example for why Alex shied away from the political arena. He’d rather have control from without than pretended control from within. Better all around.
A glance at his watch told him Cress would most likely be on her way back to Gran’s. On a whim, Alex dialed the diner and ordered dinner for Cress and Gran’s friends, with enough for Audra if she happened to be around. Gran’s appetite was non-existent, but the others would need a meal they didn’t have to fuss over. Chicken pot pie and salad from the diner sounded perfect.
*
“I’m not even going to think about the calories in this amazingly flaky, awesomely wonderful crust.” Stacey breathed a sigh of pleasure, twirling her fork as she chewed, relishing every bite. “Have I mentioned what a nice young man Alex Westmore is?”
“Not since the car ride home.”
“That long?” Stacey frowned. “Well, then, allow me to reiterate. The guy’s a gem.”
“Subtle again.”
“And he liv
es here.”
“I figured that since he’s always underfoot.” She grinned at Stacey’s frown before asking, “Where does he live exactly?”
“You’ve never been there?”
“No. Why?”
Stacey sent her a look that said she wasn’t born yesterday.
Cress flushed. “For pity’s sake… We’ve locked lips a couple of times. End of story.”
It wasn’t even close to the end of the story, and Cress couldn’t imagine how a guy could pack that much emotion into a simple kiss, but Alex did. Wonderfully. Magically. Marvelously.
Cress put a firm lock-down on her musings before she gagged on indiscriminate use of adverbs.
She was falling for Alex Westmore. Falling hard. And she better get a handle on this before she found herself irretrievably tangled in two distinct places, here and Minneapolis.
Right now Watkins Ridge was winning, and that was mostly due to the guy whose gentle warmth and kisses solaced her heart, her soul. Alex’s outward personality embodied everything good about the Midwest, about manhood. The sound of a car horn from the adjacent road leading into the upscale housing development spiked her doubt-o-meter.
If Alex were so upstanding, why was Gran broke? Or was Gran just being Gran, miserly to the end?
Part of Cress wasn’t sure she wanted an answer. Sometimes it was better to live in mild ambiguity than dig for truths that didn’t matter in the long run.
Keep telling yourself that, honey. But don’t call me when you crash and burn.
Stacey interrupted Cress’s current internal standoff. “You’re feeling better.”
Cress nodded. “Much. And I’m heading to Minneapolis on Friday as planned. You’re okay here with Gran?” She turned toward Audra. “No reservations at the B&B?”
“I kept the day open to help out. And Dad needs to do some measurements for the addition he’s planning for me. It will give the quilt-and-candle shop a separate wing and entrance and take the strain off the sitting room.”
Cress frowned. “He’s running short on time for that, isn’t he? Once the snow flies it’s tough to build.”
Audra indicated the front room with a lift of her chin. “Depending how Gran is doing, we’ll take things as they come. No hurry, no worry.”
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