Safely Home

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “They’re predicting rain,” Cress argued, sensible. “It’s always quieter then and Carl and I weren’t looking for an audience.”

  “I know.” Alex took her hand. “I’ll walk you in.”

  “Alex—”

  “It’s no use arguing, so why try?”

  She grinned and leaned her head against a very nice chest. “I wasn’t going to argue. I was going to say thank you.”

  “Oh.” He puffed his shoulders and jutted his chin like one of Gran’s old roosters. “Well. You’re welcome.”

  They walked along a path through mixed hardwoods, a tint of color challenging the mantel of green. Squirrels darted, a few gulls swooped down, then flew back up and away, as if second-guessing themselves, knowing it was time to seek warmer places.

  A lone man sat at a picnic table, his face turned their way. He rose when he spotted Cress and closed the distance between them in quick, short strides, then grabbed Cress into a hug and spun her around. “You’re late.”

  Her laughter relaxed Alex a smidge. He couldn’t pretend to like the idea of leaving her here no matter how much Carl liked or respected her. He didn’t know Carl, but he knew Cress and this visit wasn’t going to be easy on her.

  But she’d kick his butt if he insisted on staying, so once the introductions were done he took her hand and met her gaze. “Your cell’s on?”

  “Yes.”

  “Call me if you need me.”

  “Will do.”

  “And I’ll be back,” he eyed his watch, wanting to shorten this visit, wanting to take her back to Watkins Ridge and quit the Twin Cities altogether, wanting to shelter her, chase the chaos and the clutter for good.

  But he didn’t have that power. That lay within her, by facing the past and slaying the demons one by one.

  “At one like we said. And that gives you enough time to get your errands done, right? The ones you made up so I wouldn’t feel bad about leaving you on your own in the big city.”

  He grinned and touched his forehead to hers, then raised a troubled gaze to Carl. “She’s okay with you?” The question asked more than either man acknowledged.

  Carl nodded, regret darkening his features. “This time, yes.”

  Alex read what Cress couldn’t see. Carl felt as bad about her injury as she did. Alex nodded. “I’ll be back.”

  Cress caught his hand as he turned to go, her fingers feeling small and soft for such a hard-nosed detective. “Alex… Thank you.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “One o’clock.”

  He left before he decided not to, before he pulled a total caveman Neanderthal turnabout and dragged her out of there.

  She’d no doubt clean his clock if he went overboard on the protective instinct thing, but he’d feel a whole lot better about all this if he could just stay, watch her back.

  Wisdom told him she needed to make these inroads on her own, find her way back to solid ground. He just prayed it wasn’t a real difficult road. From what he’d witnessed so far, Cress’s path had seen trouble enough.

  *

  “You look good.” Carl’s approving look made Cress feel instantly better. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but you look,” he swept her a glance and nodded satisfaction. “Good.”

  “I feel better.”

  “About?” He led the way back to the table, waited until she sat, then settled across from her.

  “Everything. Mostly,” she corrected herself. She eyed the lake, the sand, the rim of gray surrounded by deeper tones of blue, the promised clouds just left of the sun. “But I had to see you, Carl. Apologize.”

  “For what?” His tone spiked along with his left brow. “For taking a bullet meant for me? For covering my butt when I should have had the perimeter?”

  She laid a hand over his and shook her head. “You had the perimeter. I knew that. I was…” she paused, glanced outward, then brought her gaze back to his, reluctant, “distracted.”

  “You were fine,” he argued. “You did everything by the book, just like you should have. I never saw the shooter. Didn’t have a clue.”

  “Me, either.”

  “It’s wrong, isn’t it?” Carl mused, gripping her hand, his face a study of regret and remorse. “That a twenty-two-year-old street punk juked two experienced detectives and downed one of them.”

  “Perils of the job.” She leaned back and let the rising wind wash over her. “But I’m learning that it’s okay to put things in perspective. To relax a little. Be me.”

  Carl nodded toward the trees where Alex had disappeared. “He helping?”

  She laughed. “Oddly, yes. I went home to lick my wounds and hide like an injured bear, and there he was. Almost like he was waiting for me.”

  Carl leaned in, teasing. “Like it was part of a plan.” He raised a knowing brow. “A God thing.”

  Was it?

  Maybe.

  Meeting Carl’s gaze, she shrugged and nodded. “Could be. Gran’s treatment is showing promise, I’m just about back to normal, I’ve babysat little kids and no one’s died.” She tilted a smile his way. “And I’ve had ice cream for supper and liked it.”

  “Small town, USA.”

  “Yes.”

  “You look….” He studied her face, her eyes, her stature. “More peaceful.”

  “Meeting you is helping that.” She reached a hand to his again. “I felt so guilty that I let us down that night.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I know you felt the same way, but my attention was split, I knew I’d had a bad weekend with James, and I was carrying a truckload of guilt and shame on my shoulders.”

  “You could have talked to me,” Carl argued. He leaned in again. “Why didn’t you? Did you think I didn’t notice the way you favored that shoulder? The way you grimaced when you stood, like everything was sore? The headaches? James is smart enough to stay away from the face, to keep the bruising unseen, but there’s more to an abusive relationship than physical pain.”

  “Although that’s a party in and of itself,” Cress retorted. She frowned, pursed her lips, and shook her head. “You’d told me so often to break it off, to walk away. I was embarrassed because I didn’t listen. I thought you’d be ashamed of me, of my choices. How stupid they were.”

  “Cress.” Carl scowled. “I was never ashamed of you. I could see James for what he was, but it’s different from my perspective because I’m a guy. And he was my commanding officer as well, so that put us in a bad spot. That wasn’t your fault, or mine. The blame lay on James.”

  “I knew better.”

  “Should have known better,” he corrected her. “But sometimes things creep up on us and James is good at what he does. You know you weren’t the first, don’t you?”

  That question jerked her awareness higher. “No.”

  Carl nodded, grim. “When he was a street cop on the west side his girlfriend swore out a complaint about him. I didn’t hear about this until you’d gone on leave, but I figured someone would have flagged you. Anyway, he was sent for psychological counseling, did his stint with their therapist, came through with flying colors and then scrambled up the chain of command where little things like beating a woman get tucked beneath desk calendars, especially when Daddy retired with honors and a captain’s badge a few years before.”

  Not the first…

  That made things worse, the thought that not only didn’t she defend herself properly, she stepped into the relationship with eyes wide open, not sensing James’ history, his power quest. And then to never report it, never take it through the steps of the judicial system. Did that make her a bad cop? An accomplice? Or just another stupid woman willing to get beat up?

  “No one was supposed to know about his other offense,” Carl offered, trying to reassure her. “They buried it deep because of his father and his age. Young men make stupid mistakes and all that crap.”

  That didn’t make her carelessness any smarter. “I’m not looking for excuses, Carl. I knew better and I paid th
e price, but it’s behind me now.”

  “Is it?” His look said he hoped that was true.

  Cress thought and nodded. “In most respects. Coming here, seeing you, saying I’m sorry for that night.” She sighed and shrugged. “I needed this.”

  “Me too.” Carl angled his head, questioning. “So. What now? What’s the plan?”

  Ah. The question of the hour. Cress smiled and shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I know I’m not coming back. I knew it the minute I saw you were okay. I need a fresh start. A new force. A clean bill.”

  “You apply yet?”

  “No.” Lips pursed, she eyed a gull as it soared, the winds keeping the bird aloft with little visible effort. “But I’ve got time. I have to pack up my stuff here, release my apartment, file my resignation and all that, but I’ve made the decision. And it’s all good.”

  He grinned, patted her hand, then rose when his phone interrupted them. “Crap, Cress, sorry. I’ve got to go. Something’s going down unexpected. You’ll be okay here until lover boy shows up in half an hour?”

  She nodded, serene. “I’m fine. Maybe I’ll take a walk along the lake. Skim some rocks. Dance in the rain.”

  Carl gave her a brief hug and headed to his car at a quick clip. “Keep in touch. And I expect an invite to the wedding.”

  Heat infused her neck, her cheeks, but she refused to deny his assumption. “You’re at the top of the list. Maybe you could be maid of honor.”

  “Only if I get to pick the dress,” he shot back. He spun the car into a quick arc and took off, going too fast for the narrow park roads, the emergency call pushing for speed.

  Cress watched until his car curved out of sight, then walked toward the lake’s edge, the quiet strip a restful reprieve in the heart of a big city. Hands in her pockets, she walked slowly, her thoughts less scrambled.

  She’d made a decision. A good one, she hoped. Was it risky to shelve her ties to the city, to the force, and leap into life in Watkins Ridge with no assurances of a future with Alex? Or a job?

  She’d take it day by day. That seemed to be working so far. The clouds reached the sun’s edge, cool shadows tipping her way, making her wish she’d grabbed a heavier fleece from the car. She hadn’t though, and walking would keep her warmer than sitting. Chin down, she curved the lake’s edge, hands in her pockets, glimmers of plans and dreams warming her from within.

  Carl had looked as relieved to see her as she was to see him. That realization helped ease guilt on both parts. And if Carl was right, if things happened for a reason, then she had much to be thankful for. Thoughts of Alex’s affection, his warmth, his strength brought a smile to her face as she passed another grove of trees, their leaves dancing in the quickening wind, her heart joining the dance, light and carefree.

  Until a hand touched her arm, a familiar hand. Too familiar.

  James.

  Cress hadn’t light-stepped her rise to detective status. She did a spin move that put her out of his reach, away from his touch, enough to brace herself against whatever might come her way. With James, you never knew, and the look in his eye was as familiar as the touch, a mix of anger and disgust, as if she’d disappointed him yet again.

  Like what else was new?

  “Don’t touch me, James.”

  He sighed as if her reaction was blown out of proportion, totally out of reality’s realm. “I just wanted to see you. Talk to you. You’ve been ignoring me, blocking my e-mails, not answering my calls. It’s annoying, Cress.”

  “Whereas I’d call it self-preservation,” Cress shot back, her gaze locked on his, her mind exploring her available options.

  She’d walked too far, figuring the half hour waiting for Alex would be better spent moving, but she’d done fifteen minutes in quick-step time and that put her over a mile from the original meeting spot, trees and curves removing her from any vantage point Alex might have.

  James smirked, reading her mind. “Lover boy won’t see, hear or have a clue when he gets back.” He moved closer, daring her to make a move, to run, to flee. “And there’s plenty of tree cover and wild grasses between here and there. Lots of cover on a nice, quiet day in the park.”

  The rain started then, not too hard, but firm with the promise of a growing storm. The rain would make footing dicey in the sand and the grass, and James was right. The parks commission had designated certain areas for natural growth to minimize mowing expenses. The tall grasses and wildflowers leant a natural look to the landscape, but trying to escape through them would be short of ridiculous. A distance runner in college, James prided himself on his running skills, and his longer legs would eat up ground quickly.

  She couldn’t outrun him, so she had to outsmart him. Buy time. Alex would be back soon, and what would he think? Do? Would he know she was in trouble or just assume she’d gone off somewhere with Carl? Why hadn’t she called him when Carl took off?

  Dumb.

  She backtracked from that thought instantly. Feeding into her self-doubts offered James an advantage she couldn’t afford. “So you’ve upgraded to stalking now? Why am I not surprised?”

  “Not stalking,” James corrected. He stepped forward.

  She stepped back.

  “I needed to see you. Talk to you. Apologize.” He added the last word as if he’d just thought of it. He stepped forward again and stretched out a hand. “I’m sorry, Cress. I really am. And I don’t want us to part like this, angry and antagonistic.”

  Cress matched his moves forward with steps back, refusing to be within his reach. “Apology accepted. Now go.”

  He shook his head, the patronizing smile scolding her like a father would an errant child. “We had good times, Cress.”

  “I’m having a hard time remembering those, James.” Cress began backing down the beach, each step taking her closer to the picnic table she shared with Carl, and her meeting spot with Alex. “But it’s over. I’ve put it behind me. You should too.”

  “Can it ever really be over?” James mused, following her moves, his steps a little bigger, a little longer, his question snaking fear along her spine. “Can I just go on, imagining you with someone else? Being with someone else? Sharing his life, his bed?”

  The niggle of fear mushroomed into growing panic.

  Cress fought it down.

  “You look good, Crescent.” James’ gaze skimmed top to bottom, his expression dark with appreciation. “But then you always did.”

  “Stop, James. Before this gets out of hand, like we know it will. Because this time I will press charges, do whatever it takes. Just turn and walk away, leave it alone. It’s over. We’re over. My job’s over.”

  “It’s over when I say it’s over, Cress. Not before.” He lunged forward, the sand giving him trouble, his move less crisp than usual. As he closed the short steps between them, he found himself staring into the no-nonsense end of a light, compact Glock aimed straight for the heart.

  He stopped.

  She didn’t. “Leave it, James. Leave me alone, do not touch me or come near me ever again.”

  He followed, either stupid or doubting she had the guts to pull that trigger. James knew her, he played to her weak side time and again, only this time…

  She had no weak side. Not anymore.

  His glance flicked to her legs, as if to drop-tackle her. She kept her gaze trained on his face, his body mass. “The bullet will be in your heart long before your impact takes me to the sand, James. Think again. Walk away now, while there’s still time.”

  She read his face, his dark expression, the challenge she offered, and knew he wouldn’t walk away. Maybe couldn’t walk away.

  She prayed for strength. Commitment. Courage. What had Alex told her? Something about locking the dragons up and throwing away the key? Well here was the most formidable dragon of them all, plenty scary in the here and the now.

  But she was different from the woman she’d been. She clung to that as he assessed the situation, sizing her up, wondering if she had the
guts to do whatever proved necessary to maintain her safety.

  For the first time in a long time, Cress knew she had everything it took. She just hoped and prayed she didn’t have to use it.

  “You’d never do it, Cress.” James faced her, hands out, a defenseless stance, giving her a full frontal shot if necessary. “Not after all we’ve been to each other. Meant to each other.”

  “Save it for Oprah. I’m done with soft-sells.”

  “Your upscale boyfriend doesn’t do rough?” James’ assessing grin found Alex wanting and that irked her. “Then he’ll never keep you happy.”

  He stepped forward, invading her space again.

  Cress countered, feet braced apart, pushing toes into the sand, heels raised slightly. She hadn’t played years of swimsuit-clad beach volleyball without gaining a few tricks. She refused to banter with James, knowing that’s what he wanted, to keep her talking, moving, waiting for his optimum moment.

  He wouldn’t get it. Not ever again.

  A car sounded in the distance, the motor of Alex’s SUV drawing her awareness. It wound past, the sound softening as Alex headed to where he’d left her.

  James seized the opportunity to come in low, the tackle spot on. His thrust drove her to the sand, the impact sending the gun hurtling into the air before it landed in the sand just out of reach. “How big you feeling right now, Crescent?”

  James’ weight pushed her into the ground, the friable sand limiting her choices.

  She tried to scream but a rough hand clamped over her mouth, the smell of his fingers horridly familiar. “Nobody walks out on me, Cress. Not now, not ever. I’m in charge, I run the show, we play this out on my dime, got it?”

  She nodded, knowing agreement was her only current option and hating it, angry that she found herself in the same frightening situation she’d walked away from.

  “Good.” He settled against her, eyes dark and more than a little manic, making Cress wonder if he was high. With James’ profile, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it did, and the knowledge offered a mixed bag of leverage and added danger.

  Keeping her gaze trained on his, she waited him out, knowing she’d have one chance, one shot, literally and figuratively, hoping to buy time but not afraid to use whatever means necessary to save her life. The small knife she carried as a useful tool was within reach of her right hand if he shifted just a little. One press of the button would release the razor-sharp blade. The trick then would be to stab James and not herself, a tricky move considering their positioning and the rain. And the fact that she’d have to stab him through her favorite khakis totally ticked her off. It was hard enough to find pants that fit all the right places and then to sacrifice a pair to James’ power lust?