by Gina Ardito
“Are you?”
“I have already told you, darling Adara, I could never harm you. I live to love you. Do you recall how your body responded to me in your dream?”
Shocked, she straightened her limbs and sat up to stare at him. “How did you know about that?”
“Because I was there with you, fair one. At least, I was there until your detective interfered.” He made a moue with his mouth. “I’ve never liked to share, you know.”
“No, I don’t know,” she snapped. “I don’t know anything about you, remember?”
His eyes grew wide, his expression perplexed. “I’ve told you all there is to know about me, dearest. What else could I possibly tell you?”
“Why you’re really here, for one thing.”
He spoke slowly and patiently, as if instructing a young child. “I came here to claim you as my bride.”
“Why?”
“Because it was foretold long ago that you and I should be united.”
She snorted. “You’ll forgive me if I find that hard to swallow.”
“It is not necessary for you to trust in our future together. It will transpire whether you believe in it or nay.”
Hoping to buy time, she allowed her gaze to wander around the bland walls. But as the mellow light grew brighter, her mind registered amazement. Flowers festooned the room: white and red roses, and flame-colored butterfly gladioli. The blooms sat in etched crystal vases on every tabletop, and hung on the walls in garland streams. Silvery rose petals with crimson edges even covered her bedding.
She glanced back at Ted’s amused face. “You did all this?”
He shrugged. “Who else knows your favorite flowers?”
“N-no one.”
“So then it must have been me, yes?”
“Y-yes. I mean, I suppose so. Why?”
“Because it gives me pleasure to please you. And I live to please you. Oh, my darling, I cannot wait to make you mine. My tongue thirsts for the taste of you. I yearn to feel you shiver beneath my touch, to hear you speak my name in the throes of passion. Tell me truthfully, Adara. Have any of your lovers told you how your skin glows with the sheen of burnished silver? Has any man filled you with indescribable joy by his mere presence in your life? Have you ever been brought to heights of ecstasy so shattering that you burst into brilliant stars of light?”
“N-no.”
As if agreeing with her, he shook his head. “Even your Terence never placed your wants and desires above his own. I must admit; I rejoiced when I learned you had cast him off. He was not meant to be your mate. The man to whom you pledge your heart must be a fiercer warrior than Odysseus, equal to your talents. He must have the strength of Hercules and wisdom imparted by Athena. But above all, he must prove himself by placing your life above his own.”
While Ted listed his requirements of worthiness, her mind automatically pictured Shane. He’d shown her strength and wisdom. And he’d stayed with her when she was afraid. She knew she could place her life in his hands, and he would risk everything to protect her.
“Do not listen to Detective Griffin, my love,” Ted scolded, and she blushed to think he knew her thoughts. “I am that man, Adara. I am not the monster he paints me. As a matter of fact, he is the ogre in our little tete-a-tete. Did he have to move you all the way out here? Especially when he knew that I exhausted the afternoon trying to find a place to live which was close to your quarters in that other healing center?”
Resentment rose within her on Shane’s behalf. “He’s trying to protect me.”
Ted shook his head and smiled sadly. “You are tired, darling, and not thinking clearly. I shall prove to you that I am sincere. Sleep. Your injuries will heal while you frolic in Morpheus’s world. Perhaps I shall join you there again.”
Her lips compressed in a tight line.
“No? Very well. I shall return here tomorrow, and we shall see what you think then.”
She blinked, and he had disappeared. The room was once again dark, and the panic button was back in its place around her bed rail.
It was a nightmare. Just a stupid nightmare…
Chapter Ten
Shane used his old key to let himself into his parents’ house, hoping not to wake his mother. He needn’t have bothered. She sat at the kitchen table, a mug between her arthritic hands and a tired smile on her heavily lined face.
“I had a feeling I’d see you tonight. You want something to eat? I could scramble a coupla eggs.”
“No, thanks. I ate earlier.”
“How about some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
“It’s a little late for coffee, isn’t it?”
She glanced at the clock overhead, and his gaze naturally followed. It read two-twenty a.m. “Actually, it’s a little early for coffee, which is why I’m drinking decaf. So, do you want some?”
“Why not?” He pulled the captain’s chair out from the table and sat down, taking a long look at his mother as she rose to fill another mug. Her hair had turned a steely gray in the last six months or so, and her eyes sank deep inside her cheeks—evidence of her lack of regular sleep. There was a permanent hunch to her shoulders she’d never had before. “You know what, Mom? You sit. I’ll get my own coffee.”
“No, Shane, it’s okay. I appreciate the ‘busy work’ these days.” She returned to the table, steaming mug in hand. “You look terrible.”
“Funny. I was just going to say the same thing about you.”
Mom sighed as she lowered herself onto the chair again. “I keep thinking she’s going to come home. I’m afraid to leave the house, afraid to take a shower. I worry that I’ll miss a phone call from someone saying they’d made a mistake. That Cassia isn’t dead. That the body we buried belongs to someone who looked like her.”
“I know.” He reached out and cupped her hand in his. “But we didn’t bury a look-alike. We buried Cassia. She’s not coming home.”
She nodded, and Shane understood. Didn’t he spend all his time convincing Tyler of the same thing? The pain was still too raw for any of them to accept.
“How’s your case?” she asked.
“Complicated.”
“Wanna tell me about it?”
“You know I can’t.” She knew, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying to wheedle information out of him. He decided to change the subject before she could continue her interrogation. “How’s Tyler?”
“Uncomplicated, thank God. The ear and throat infection finally cleared up. And I notice he doesn’t cry himself to sleep anymore.”
“No. It took about four months, but Dr. Stein and I finally managed to convince him that his father could never hurt him. It was a real breakthrough. For all of us.”
“I’ll bet.” Her lips disappeared in a tight grimace.
“What?”
She shook her head, her mouth clamped shut.
“What?” he insisted.
“Life moves on, doesn’t it?” Her voice sounded so small, like a child confessing to some minor transgression.
“It has to, Mom.”
“I know. I sit in the living room, and I watch the parents riding bikes with their kids or taking a stroll with the family dog after dinner. And I want to warn them to squeeze every drop out of the time they’re given with those they love.
“Do you remember Donna Lewis from across the street? Her little girl is walking already. It seems like only yesterday Donna was a little girl herself. Everywhere I look, time keeps moving forward. But not for me.”
“Did you call Hank Sherwood at L.V.O.M.?”
“Not yet.”
His breath escaped in a sigh. “Mom, he’s expecting your call. The Living Victims of Murder can help you. That’s what they’re there for. Hank started the organization when an overzealous boyfriend killed his sister ten years ago. Do you remember that case? The perp said the victim liked rough sex, and he went a little overboard while trying to please her. Still leaves a bad taste in my mouth all these years later. Anyway, Ha
nk wanted a group that would help to toughen murder penalties, speak for the victims, and assist those left behind with adjusting to life after a heinous crime has destroyed their families. You can’t go on like this. Cassia wouldn’t want you to give up on your life because hers is over.”
She buried her face behind her hands. “I try, Shane. Really, I do. It’s just so hard…”
Shane rose to touch his mother’s shoulders, lending her support and comfort. “It’ll get better. I promise. Call Hank in the morning, okay?”
She placed a hand over Shane’s and squeezed gently. “You know, it’s time you found yourself a wife.”
“Don’t start on that again. I’m not getting married. Not now, not ever.”
“You will. You just haven’t met the right girl yet.”
His thoughts inadvertently turned to Adara Berros. If he ever did consider marriage, she’d be the type he’d fall for. Smart, pretty—no, downright beautiful was more like it—and gutsy. But he shook his head emphatically, scattering such nonsense out of his brain cells.
“Even if I met Ms. Right, I wouldn’t marry her. Life is too precarious, especially in my line of work. Look what happened to Kevin. Goes to answer a simple call and winds up dead in a gas station. He left behind a wife and two little girls under the age of six.” He sat down in the chair and reached for his coffee. “Next time, it could be me. And if I’m going to die in the line of duty, I don’t want it to affect anyone else’s life.”
“Pshaw! What about your father? He was on the police force for twenty-five years. And he died at home in his bed.”
“The job is different now, Mom.”
“I hardly see how. Yes, there are bigger, more rapid-firing guns, but you also have vests, which your father and his cronies did not.”
“There is no precedence in death. Just because Dad died of a heart attack at home doesn’t mean that’s how I’ll go. I could walk out this door and be shot down on the porch.”
Mom hastily crossed herself. “God forbid. You’re just being foolish, Shane. You think if you don’t get married that your death won’t affect anyone? What about me? What about your coworkers and your friends? You think none of them will mourn you?”
“Not the way a wife and children might.”
“What about Tyler? You’re responsible for his wellbeing now, too. You and I both know that boy needs more than you can offer him. He needs a mother.”
“He needs a loving parent. It doesn’t matter if that parent is a mother or a father.”
“Oh, Shane, take off the detective outfit, and see the boy as he really is. Tyler needs two parents. He needs security. You and a one hour appointment twice a week with Dr. Stein are not enough.”
“So, what do you expect me to do? Marry the first available woman that comes along?”
“No, silly. I expect you to live your life, not run away from it on the off chance something terrible might happen to you someday. You can’t hide from misfortune. Don’t shut yourself up in some invisible bubble. It’s no way to live.”
The moment she finished speaking, her eyes widened, and Shane smiled. She’d finally seen the light. “That goes for you too, doesn’t it, Mom?”
“I-I guess so,” she murmured.
He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Go to bed. I’m going to check on Tyler, and then I’ll sleep in my old room tonight, if that’s okay.”
She nodded absentmindedly, as if still digesting her own lecture.
“Mom? Go to bed. Later this morning is time enough to figure out how to find your way back to the living. Come on.”
He helped her to her feet and walked with her down the hallway, past the framed photographs of himself and Cassia at different stages of their lives. Each picture flashed across his brain in a slow moving parade, beginning with their hospital photos as infants, through elementary school, high school yearbook photos in caps and gowns, his graduation from the police academy, and wham! There it was.
Her wedding picture. Cassia, alone, standing in a flower-filled garden, one arm outstretched to hold her veil away from her innocent, shining face, pink and blue bridesmaid’s bouquets arranged artfully around the hem of her ruffled gown. Her dreamy eyes held such joy, so much promise. Why couldn’t her reality match her dream?
Shaking off the unfairness of it all, he squeezed his mother’s hand one last time, whispered, “Good night,” and headed into Cassia’s old bedroom, the first door on the right, where Tyler now slept. He stayed in the doorway; Dr. Stein had repeatedly warned Shane not to sneak up on the boy. Terror still lived inside his skinny frame, and the slightest surprise could jolt him into a screaming jag lasting for hours.
While Shane watched, Tyler kicked the blankets off his legs, and his toy dinosaur fell to the floor. He had to resist the urge to sweep inside and place it by the child’s moonlit cheek. The years hurtled away, and suddenly, he saw Cassia sleeping there, her latest fashion doll sharing the space Tyler reserved for his velvety stegosaurus.
He should have protected her, should have seen the monster that lurked beneath Frank’s mask of overt concern and loving regard. But Frank always seemed to have Cassia’s best interests at heart. And Cassia, daughter of one police detective, sister to another, quickly became adept at hiding the telltale bruises indicative of a battered woman.
His hands balled into tight fists until his fingernails dug painfully into his palms. Dammit, he was a detective. A good one, if his C.O. could be believed. So why hadn’t he seen the signs of violence affecting his own sister? The sudden cancelled family dinners, the long sleeves and turtlenecks she took to wearing, the guarded look in her eyes whenever Frank was around. In a stranger, he would have immediately suspected spousal abuse. But it never occurred to him that such a horror could have visited Cassia’s life.
Not until the day she filed for the order of protection. And the minute Frank received notification of that little beauty, he drove to the house, pistol in hand and blew a hole into Cassia’s chest, then put it in his own mouth and pulled the trigger.
Poor Tyler! Terrified out of his wits, he still managed to remember the script that Cassia had made him practice since he first learned to answer the phone. Dial 911 and tell the operator, “My name is Tyler Winslow. I am five years old, and I live at 43 Angel Drive in Oldetown. My mommy and daddy need an ambulance.”
To this day, the memory of that childish voice spewing the lines in a robotic fashion shook him to his socks. Forcing the sound out of his ears, he turned and headed into his old bedroom down the hall. Another sleepless night awaited him there.
Chapter Eleven
The following morning, Shane checked in at the precinct to fill out some paperwork before taking the hour-long drive to Hampton Hospital. It always amused him that the detectives in movies and television shows never filed a single report. Any real officer would be happy to tell those misguided writers that paperwork in the police business waited for no man.
“I should know better than to underestimate you by now,” Commander Stewart said in lieu of good morning. “Nice catch on the Berros case. Have you found anything to link Pha to Cherry yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Consider it your number one priority now. You and Lou will work hand in hand on this. And I want to be informed of every step you take in this investigation. You moved Ms. Berros out of College Hospital?”
“Soon as Lou made the connection, I had her transferred to Hampton under an assumed name.”
“Good thinking. How long do you think she’ll be there?”
Shane took a sip of the tepid coffee sitting on his desk and grimaced. The acidic liquid scraped his stomach’s lining. “At least a coupla weeks. She’s got a fractured ankle, so she won’t be going anywhere for a while.”
“Better start thinking ahead, though. It’ll be an even longer while before Cherry’s retrial hits the docket. Have you thought about what you’ll do with her once she’s released?”
“We’ll have to find a safe house f
or her. Any ideas?”
Jake shook his head. “But I’ll look into it right away. On the up side, we managed to get a clear set of fingerprints out of Becky’s car and set a listening device in Pha’s new apartment.”
Shane couldn’t hide his surprise. “H-how?”
“Why do you think I sent Becky running after you yesterday afternoon?”
“You planted her?”
“Of course. Becky said you were pretty upset about the way the interrogation went. I tried to minimize the damage.” He shrugged. “I figured, if we can’t get anything out of him face to face, we still might be able to work the back end of things. Sometimes, a little surveillance goes a long way. Then, if we get a fingerprint hit or a confession on tape, we can bring Pha in. Becky was pretty eager to get involved, though she wanted to put on a fresh face and more feminine shoes before she followed you two.” He rolled his eyes. “Something about that guy has every female in the precinct going gaga. Personally, I don’t see the attraction.”
Neither could Shane, but he knew better than to interrupt his commander just to agree with him.
“Anyway, Lou’s running the prints now. Hopefully, he’ll get a match.”
“Ten bucks says he comes up empty,” Shane muttered.
“What makes you say that?”
“The way this case has been going so far. Nothing is as it seems. Trust me.”
“Yeah, well, you let Lou and me handle things on this end. In the meantime, head down to the hospital and keep an eye on our witness. What name have you got her under, anyway?”
“Harris, Rose Harris.”
Jake grinned. “Good one. Sounds like a little old lady.”
“So long as it keeps Pha away.”
~~~~
In Shane’s opinion, the grim-faced attending doctor at Hampton Hospital looked like he’d missed his true calling, the mortuary. His pale gray eyes flicked in serpentine rhythm as he announced in a frigid tone, “We’re releasing Ms. Harris this afternoon.”