Safely Home

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Infuriating.

  Would the right moment come? James hot breath and self-satisfied expression had her uttering another silent prayer for strength and good aim. He had her right where he wanted her, helpless and prone beneath him. She’d use that as her momentum, play dumb, play placid, feed into his control frenzy.

  And then make that one strike count.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The empty picnic table stabbed fear through Alex. Where was she? Where was Carl?

  “Cress?” He called her name as he ran to the water’s edge, his eyes raking east and west. “Cress!”

  No answer. Not a sound. The rain intensified, the wet sand leaving no trace of her path left or right, at least not to a greenhorn like him. He swore lightly, pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. When the dispatcher answered, Alex growled Carl’s name.

  “Sir, I’m sorry, but that information—”

  Alex cut her off. “We have an officer in danger at Lake Nokomis. Ingstrom was with her when I left. Find him, give him this cell number and tell him it’s an emergency. Now. He’ll understand.”

  His cell rang seconds later. “Ingstrom?”

  “What’s going on?” Carl sounded rushed, angry and more than a little put out. “Where’s Cress?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know. I left her with you, in your care, and she’s gone.”

  Carl swore.

  Alex echoed the message. “Where is she, Carl?”

  “I have no idea. She said she was going to take a walk along the shore since you’d be a little while.”

  “You left her alone.” The accusation in Alex’s voice made the implication clear that this was Carl’s fault, his responsibility. “Which way did she go?”

  “I don’t know, but help’s coming. I’m on my way too.” He cursed James as a car horn sounded a driver’s indignation.

  “You think he’s here?”

  “My call was a false alarm. A set-up. Yeah, he’s there and he’s armed. And flippin’ furious that she dumped him.”

  Dear God.

  The sound of sirens punched fear into Alex’s gut. Would they be in time? Would they find her unharmed? Making a decision, he raced west, the wet sand slowing his progress at a time when he badly wanted gridiron speed. He rounded the first curve and saw nothing out of place, the stand of trees whipping in the rising wind, rain sheeting, soaking him, his feet, the sand.

  The sirens grew louder, closer, a combination of tones from multiple directions. Tires screeched to a stop not far away as Alex barreled around the next grove of trees, his pulse thrumming, his mind envisioning dark outcomes.

  Bad cops had robbed his father of any chance he might have had at rehabilitation, at finding new life. And even though the rational Alex knew the chances of his father’s redemption might have been slim, they became none at the hands of a trio of cops who made sport out of thrashing a drunk, then dumping him across the county line for someone else to find. His father’s internal injuries had been his death knell, and the power-hungry cops?

  They got away with a written reprimand and a few months of desk time.

  And now another power-tripping cop might have Cress. Old anger choked him as he followed the tree line left, a tiny cove jutting into the sand.

  His heart froze. Literally.

  She stood, feet braced, her hair a mess of wet sand and tangles, the back of her cute pants wet and soiled, arms out, hands clenched, a gun pointed directly at the heart of a guy wearing a mock-designer jacket stained with blood.

  “That you, Alex?”

  She didn’t sound scared. Or panicked. Not in the least bit damsel-in-distress. Nope, not her. Not his Crescent. “It’s me.”

  “We’ve got help?”

  “Pouring in from all sides from the sound of it.”

  “Good. Saves me from putting a bullet in his heart. Or his head. He is soooo not worth the paperwork.”

  “I can’t disagree, honey. And his jacket’s a knock-off.” Alex let his derisive tone underscore his words.

  A tiny grin eased her taut jaw, her rigid stance. “Once a phony, always a phony.”

  Cops approached from all sides, weapons drawn, sizing up the situation. Cress put her hands high, the gun pointed skyward. “Detective Cress Dietrich, MPD.” She jerked her head Alex’s way. “He’s with me. And that blood-sucking vermin over there,” she pointed a hand to where James stood, “is armed and dangerous, in need of a doctor and a lawyer which I’m sure Daddy will provide. Feel free to wait on the doctor, let him bleed out a bit.”

  “Cress.” Carl pounded up the beach, calling her name.

  She turned, offered him a wan smile, then holstered her gun into her back waistband. “A false alarm, I take it?”

  “I’m so sorry.” Carl reached her side and gave her a hug that should have been Alex’s, especially since Carl left her alone, in harm’s way. Carl stepped back. Eyed Alex. “You probably want to kill me.”

  “Twice. What were you thinking, leaving her alone like that?” Alex shrugged an arm around Cress and pulled her close, his grip and stance leaving no doubt about his feelings, his intentions. “He could have killed her this time.”

  “But he didn’t.” Cress pulled away just a little and slanted her gaze up to Alex, then Carl. “I stood my ground. Defended myself. And ruined my favorite pants in the process, and they don’t even make this style anymore.”

  Alex dropped his chin to her hair as the officers cuffed James and read him his rights. “I’ll buy you more. I promise. As many as you want, okay?”

  “Okay.” She pretended to be mollified, then jerked her head James’ way, her gaze trained on Carl. “He won’t be able to buy his way out of this one, right?”

  “No.” Carl looked her over, his expression serious. “Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing major. A few bumps and bruises when I hit the ground, but my handy little pocket knife took him by surprise. Twice, actually.”

  “Good job.” Carl’s look of appreciation said he approved whatever means it took to stave off James’ attack.

  With Cress snug in the shelter of his arm, Alex hit a speed dial on his phone. She leaned away. “Who are you calling?”

  He tugged her forward, figuring they could talk just as easily someplace where it wasn’t pouring rain. “Home Depot. I’m ordering locks for the knife drawer.”

  “Very funny.” She stopped and looked up at him, worry shadowing her face, her eyes. “I don’t like hurting people.”

  He pulled her in for a long overdue hug. “I know that, honey. I know that. But I’m still ordering the drawer lock. Just in case.”

  She laughed against his jacket, then half-sobbed, realization setting in. He dipped his head, ignoring the rain, the commotion, the gathered police presence. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  She huffed a breath and nodded, scrambled a hand into her pocket for a tissue, came up empty and used her sleeve.

  Total Cress.

  She raised her gaze to his. Her expression said she heard and believed his pledge, his promise. “But I did it, Alex. I stood up to him. Took him down. All by myself.”

  He understood the magnitude of the turning point. “Yes, you did. And I’m proud of you.”

  “Me too.” Carl jerked his head toward the road. “Can we finish this back at the station? Where it’s not raining?”

  Cress dropped her forehead to Alex’s shirt, nodded and started moving toward the road. “Let’s get it done.”

  *

  “Nice jeans.” Alex shot her baggy pants a teasing look. “I take it you keep nothing in your locker?”

  “Not a thing. These are Mary Kay’s. The shirt is Mona’s. And the sweatshirt is Carl’s.”

  “Looks great.”

  She smiled up at him, hearing the warmth behind the words, the appreciation of her despite the rag-tag outfit. “Thanks, Counselor.”

  “You’re welcome, Detective.” He swept the squad room a questioning look. “We’re good her
e? Done?”

  “Yes.” Carl approached them from the side. He hugged Cress then stuck out a hand to Alex. “I want to say again how sorry I am. That I left her.” He shook his head, guilt shadowing his eyes, his gaze. “I never thought James would go this far.”

  Cress laid a hand on his arm. “Me either. But it’s over. And it wasn’t your fault, or yours,” she flicked her gaze Alex’s way, her expression frank. “Or mine. One of the first rules of police engagement is to gauge action to reaction. He moved, we reacted. If nothing else, he should spend a decent amount of time in the general population wishing he’d never been born. I’m okay with that.”

  Carl nodded. “Daddy’s connections can’t smooth this one. The captain’s already made that clear and the mayor is backing him up totally. After the recent task force scandals, everyone’s on the same page of keeping things clean, on the up and up.”

  His words needled Alex, memories of his father’s untimely death washing over him. But then he looked around the police station, the worn desks, the scuffed floors, the paint that could use a touch up. He looked beyond the battle scars and saw hard-working, every-day people, trying to do a tough job and do it right, then having to endure the public smack-down when one of their own turned dirty, making a tough job tougher. At that moment, Alex realized that for every bad cop there were dozens of good ones, for every crooked deal done under a table, hundreds went down according to law. And while the legal side of him hated admitting it, he understood that life was never crystal clear, not one hundred percent, anyway.

  And he could live with that.

  He wrapped an arm around Cress’s shoulders, pressed a kiss to her temple, sniffed and pretended appreciation. “New shampoo?”

  “I used whatever was in the shower room. It smells like death. I know.” She elbowed him, none too easy, either, and he laughed, gripping her tighter.

  “Lilacs.” Carl leaned in, sniffed and gagged. “You smell like my great-aunt Rose. I think her sense of smell is gone and she literally pours the stuff on.” He stepped back, eyed Cress, worked his jaw and shrugged, uncertain. “We okay?”

  “Always.” She hugged him, grabbed her phone from his desk, glanced around and gave a brisk nod. “I’ll come back another day to clear things out. I tendered my resignation so once it’s processed, we’re good to go.” She glanced around the room again, as if committing it to memory, turned and whacked Carl on the shoulder. “Later.”

  “Right.”

  Alex kept his grip firm as they walked out the front door, his collar itching like it always did in the city. He released her shoulders to open the car door, then shut it carefully once she’d settled herself, trying not to think of how close he’d come to losing her.

  As he angled the car out onto the road, she leaned her head back and sighed, relieved. “What a day.”

  “Listen, Cress, I—”

  She put a hand to his mouth in a quick move that reminded him she wasn’t just your average, every day, ordinary girl. “If you apologize again I’m going to get really, really angry. Got it?”

  He smiled against her fingers. “Got it. You still up for seafood?”

  She thought a moment, then nodded, refusing to let James ruin one more minute of her life. “I’m starving.”

  Alex he steered the car toward the access ramp. “And we do need to fill out those jeans. Significantly.”

  She laughed and brushed a hand across the borrowed pants. “You know it’s funny. Mary Kay and I used to be good friends. We came on the force at almost the same time, and she’s one solid cop. No pun intended,” Cress added, pinching excess denim for emphasis. “And then we took different paths, James didn’t like her, and we fell out of touch, so it was real nice of her to run to the rescue with clothes for me.”

  Alex nodded, silent, his jaw tight.

  Cress put her hand in his lap. He dropped his right hand from the wheel, grabbed hers and gave it a light squeeze.

  “I see the pattern now,” Cress admitted, enjoying the feel of his hand, his silent commiseration. “But at the time it seemed normal. Almost justified. James was good at stroking my ego, giving me inflated ideas about myself. Thoughts that probably would have shamed my family. Then when things went totally south, got real bad, I had no one to turn to. Correction,” she added, emphasizing the word, “I felt like I had no one to turn to. But now…” Her voice softened as she gazed out, then shifted in her seat to face him square. “Now I do.”

  Alex flashed a quick smile her way. “Family. Friends. You’re surrounded, Cress.”

  She settled back in her seat, a self-satisfied smile chasing the day’s early shadows. “I know. I like it, by the way. A lot.”

  “Good. Because I’ve got some finish work that needs to be done on my new kitchen, and I’m looking for advice. Female advice.”

  Wonder and anticipation tickled her spine. “Really, Counselor? Would this be particular female advice or will anyone do?”

  He squeezed her hand one more time before releasing it to make a turn onto I-94. “I’m somewhat exacting about the advice I get these days, so I’m only after one woman’s opinion on matters like this.” He flicked a knowing glance her way. “Yours.”

  The Hallelujah chorus began playing in her heart, a total orchestrated rendition by the Minneapolis Philharmonic, front-ended by vocals from the St. Paul’s Cathedral choir.

  She turned her head to contain the smile. No sense letting stuff go to his head indiscriminately. The man had an ego outsized only by his heart, staid and solid, tough and true. “I’ll come by this weekend.”

  Alex’s expression said he understood too much, but he just nodded, quirked a grin and eased the stick shift into fifth. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  *

  “I fell asleep?” Cress straightened in her seat, eyeing Gran’s house, then Alex. “I never do that.”

  “Busy day.” He offered her a gentle smile, then nodded toward the jeans. “And with what you packed away at the restaurant, I’d say we’re well on our way to filling out those jeans.”

  “Amazing food.” She sent him a grin of agreement and unfastened her seat belt as a trooper’s car pulled into the drive behind them. “And either you’re about to get a ticket, well deserved considering that lead foot of yours,” she arched a brow at his look of bemusement, “or your brother has come calling.”

  “It’s Cruz. He’s come to see you.”

  “Me? Why?” Cress headed Cruz’s way without waiting for Alex. “Is there a problem?”

  “No.” Cruz turned toward Cress and reached out a hand, cop to cop. “Just wanted to shake the hand of the detective responsible for an amazing family reunion today.”

  “The boy?” Excitement hiked Cress’s tone. “They got him?”

  “Safe and sound. The old lady never even put up a fight. She’s in the hands of the FBI and Brian, that’s the boy’s real name, is back with his mother and stepfather. They want to meet you.”

  “Meet me?” Cress took a step back and shook her head. “No, that’s not necessary. Not at all. I just—”

  “You just noticed something fishy and did something about it, using all available means. And call it luck or divine providence, she almost never brought the kid into town. She would generally lock him in an upstairs room without a window, but that day there was a repairman working on the roof and she was afraid Brian might talk to the roofer. So she brought him to town, you saw them and the rest is history.”

  Alex hugged her close. “You should meet them, Cress. Give them closure. But not in those.” He shifted his gaze to her present outfit. “Something else might be in order.”

  “You said I looked fine.”

  “Placating. You’d been traumatized. It was the least I could do.”

  She elbowed him hard.

  He laughed and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Do you have any idea just how much I love you?”

  Cress stopped dead in her tracks, staring up at him, knowing Cruz was standing there, right there,
listening. And grinning. “You do?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He leaned down and feathered her mouth with a gentle kiss, a kiss that pledged life and love. “But you still need to get changed.”

  “Alex, I…”

  He grinned at her discomfiture. “I love keeping you off-step, Crescent. It’s become one of my new daily goals. Right up there with fighting bathroom mold and mildew.”

  “And there you go, ruining the moment.” Her smile and light step said she was teasing, that his declaration was well received. That in itself was a victory where Cress was concerned. “I’ll get changed and be right back. Where am I meeting the family?”

  “The sheriff’s office. When Alex called that you were almost home, I told them and they wanted to wait and meet you before heading out.”

  The thought of the little boy’s reunion didn’t erase what might have happened to him in the three years he was gone, but at least he was back with his family. That in itself was nothing short of miraculous. “Give me five minutes.”

  Cruz nodded. “You’ve got ‘em, Cress.”

  *

  A woman no older than herself seized Cress’s hands as she entered the sheriff’s office in Chippewa Falls. “Are you Detective Dietrich?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you.” The woman pulled Cress into a hug, tears streaming, her emotions on overdrive. “Thank you so much.”

  Cress felt Alex’s presence behind her, Cruz alongside, and knew that if things got overly emotional, they had her back. For the first time in years she felt surrounded by love and support, a network of people to uplift and uphold her. Why hadn’t she seen how important that was before? She’d mistaken aloofness for independence and knew she’d been partially responsible for her later problems. But somehow here, in Chippewa County, she felt centered and at home. The relief that offered made her wonder why she’d ever thought coming back was a bad thing.