Jordan caught the psychiatrist watching their interaction. “Right. That’s pretty much representative of our communication.”
“Jordan,” Bethany chided.
“Why, it’s true.”
“I know you went through something terrible, but could you try not being difficult?”
“Bethany, how do you think Jordan feels about being called difficult?” the psychiatrist asked.
Bethany scoffed, his method obviously not her preferred one.
* * * *
The unintended humor was lost on her when she sat in the car later, struggling to shake the feeling of being naked and helpless once more. Not that the shrink had gone all the way yet, in fact, he was going fairly easy on her. The additional pressure of the pretense weighed on Jordan as well.
She had bought a house she might not ever live in. She wasn’t with the person she longed to be with, even though Jordan had to admit she might have no idea what a sane, healthy relationship looked like. Thinking about what future visits with the soft spoken intelligent therapist might unearth, terrified her. The only stability she’d ever found, on the job, was out of reach on the moment.
Derek had interrogated Darby. Others would tie the lose ends this time.
“How does it make you feel?” Bethany asked, sounding tired. “I try to do what’s best for both of us. Am I asking too much of you?”
There was no easy answer. Bethany deserved one, that much was for sure, if not for the time she had talked Jordan out of a decision that most likely would have been fatal, then for the times she’d betrayed her. How binding was this unspoken contract? Had she really signed on for life?
Ellie had said Bethany didn’t love her. That might be true. Bethany wanted things in order, no disruptions. Since everyone was so concerned about her feelings lately, Jordan should take a closer look herself.
“This isn’t going to work,” she said.
“You can tell after one session, really?”
“I mean us. We tried, more than once. Trying again won’t change anything.”
“Why, because you plan to sleep with her again?”
Jordan flinched, but Bethany wasn’t done. “Did you, when you went to see her?”
Sure, that was the first thing on my mind once I got out of that hellhole. “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but it’s not working. I’m packing a few things tonight. I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re not.” Bethany’s sympathetic expression bordered on pity, but Jordan knew there was something else beneath. Fear. Nobody wanted to be alone. “You’re still on sick leave, and you have terrible nightmares.” Who else is going to bother? was what she didn’t say.
“I know what you’ve done for me. I’m not taking it lightly, and I’ll never forget it, but I can’t be with anyone right now. Please understand.”
“Come on.” Bethany started the car, fastening her seatbelt in a curt angry gesture. “You’re going to come back to the sessions, right? You can have your time away, it’s your house after all, but you will come back.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so. Wow.”
Bethany didn’t say another word until they reached their apartment and Jordan started folding clothes into a suitcase.
“You can’t be by yourself. You don’t even have food there.”
Jordan straightened, taking in Bethany’s disbelieving gaze. “I can stop by the grocery store.”
“You’ve been planning this. So you lied to me again, what else is new?”
“I didn’t lie to you. I was going to tell you, on that day. I didn’t know my realtor had other plans,” Jordan said coolly, making Bethany halt. She picked up the suitcase, wincing. “I apologized. More than once. Okay, the last time I was kind of pressured into it, and I wouldn’t have chosen the wording, but I am sorry. Now I need you to let me go.”
The panic flashing in Bethany’s eyes told her she understood Jordan meant more than this moment.
“I’ll be here when you come back. We both know you will.”
“Goodbye, Bethany.”
* * * *
It was ironic that the man who had almost taken her life had helped her find a home. She had to disassociate this place from him, and when Jordan walked through the front door of her house once more, she thought she could. Fortunately, there was no urgent need for renovations. All she needed was to move in a few more boxes and clothes. Derek would help with that. She could live here comfortably, trying to gain back her balance enough so she could return to work.
She had to, now that she had a mortgage to pay on her own.
Jordan went into the bathroom, where she stripped to take a shower, for the first time in a while meeting her mirror image with defiance. You have no idea what I survived before we met, she directed at the ghost of her nightmares.
She had fooled him after all. He didn’t get to decide who was in her life. Jordan wasn’t the one locked up. On the contrary, she was finally free.
Chapter Nineteen
Knowing Jonathan Darby was behind bars went a long way to ease her mind. Ellie could sleep a little better at night, for which she was grateful, but there was nothing to help with her heartbreak. She knew she’d have to give Jordan the time and space she needed to come to her own conclusions. That didn’t mean it wasn’t hard.
Rumor had it Bethany had gone back to headquarters. Ellie had no idea if she and Jordan had continued the couples’ therapy, or if they were even still trying.
Ellie had begun to resume her old life, work, hanging out with friends—working up the courage to make that call. If she didn’t want to talk, Jordan could always say no. Ellie needed to know she was going to be okay. If she was honest, that wasn’t all she hoped for. Until she was brave enough, she would hold on to a memory that felt increasingly unreal.
She sat next to Libby in roll call one morning, anticipating Kate and Jensen’s engagement party this upcoming weekend. The sight of Derek and Jordan standing next to Sergeant Bristol jolted her quickly out of the thought.
“Phil Hobbs.” Jordan pointed to the image of a grim-looking man, in late forties or early fifties maybe, that was projected on the wall. He escaped from a county prison last night, still has lots of contacts in the area. He’s in for aggravated assault and second degree murder, but likes to get his hands dirty on everything illegal, guns, drugs, gambling. Any hints, you report straight to us, and don’t approach him without backup. This man is extremely dangerous. He injured two guards, one of them critically.”
“If he feels cornered, he will shoot first,” Henderson added. “Be careful.”
While this was reason for concern, for everyone in the room, Ellie could feel her attention drift, her gaze drawn to Jordan. She looked ready to be back in the arena, in charge. Ellie was happy and relieved to see her like that again, though she hadn’t forgotten other memories they shared, of a darker, terrifying world. They wouldn’t let the monsters that walked in that world, win.
“Officer Harding.”
“I’ll wait in the car,” Libby said with a knowing smile. “Don’t take too long.”
Ellie turned around to face the woman who had occupied her fantasies and worries in the past weeks. Her heart was pounding. These feelings were impossible to turn off.
“How are you doing?” Jordan asked, her voice soft and warm like Ellie remembered it from other circumstances.
“Good. I’m good, but I think I should be asking you that question.”
Jordan gave her a wry smile. “Better? I think that sums it up. It’s good to be back, even on a day I have to find out a lowlife like Hobbs is back on the streets.”
“We’ll find him,” Ellie said without hesitation.
“Yes, we will. Be careful out there.”
Jordan touched her shoulder for a brief moment, a gesture of encouragement, but it felt as if had they been alone, she would have held her back, pulled her close. Maybe that was Ellie’s imagination, but it felt good anyway.
<
br /> “Always.”
She hesitated, waiting for any sign, anything hinting at a chance that they could ever go back to what they’d had for a brief time.
“By the way…I’m getting the rest of my things in this weekend,” Jordan said, nothing more, but between the lines, Ellie could read enough to nurture the hope she’d been clinging to for the past weeks.
“You kept the house?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good.”
“Ellie, are you coming?” Libby called from behind the wheel of the squad car.
“Looks like you’ve got to go,” Jordan said with a smile. “I’ll see you soon.”
“You will.”
Ellie walked away, certain she hadn’t yet collected everything life had to offer to her, reveling in a gesture that felt warm and bittersweet and too fleeting.
Time would tell.
Also by Barbara Winkes
Halfway Home (Jayce & Emma I)
Familiar Places (Jayce & Emma II)
Published with Eternal Press:
Autumn Leaves (Callie & Rebecca I)
Winter Storm (Callie & Rebecca II)
Secrets
Spring Fever (Callie & Rebecca III)
The Interpretation of Love and the Truth
www.amazon.com/author/barbarawinkes
http://eternalpress.biz/people.php?author=518
For new and upcoming releases, check out www.barbarawinkes.blogspot.ca
Thank you for reading!
Read an excerpt of Insinuations, the next Carpenter/Harding novel:
Chapter One
Jordan braced herself for the inevitable question. When it came, she was ready.
“Do you want to see Pratt today?” her partner Derek Henderson asked. TJ Pratt had once done time with Phil Hobbs, a wanted felon high on their list. He was also a longtime friend of Jordan’s birthparents whom she hadn’t seen in almost twenty years. She had good enough reasons to stall this visit, and even one that would convince Derek.
“He’s not going anywhere. After baby girl threw up on me earlier, I’d rather go home and shower, start fresh tomorrow.”
Derek, oblivious, nodded. “I’ll see you later?”
Jordan would have preferred to spend the evening curled up on her couch, but one of their colleagues was having his retirement party at the Code 7 this evening. She had to make an appearance, at least.
“Sure. I won’t be long though. We’ll check on Pratt first thing tomorrow.”
“All right, see you there.”
“Yeah.”
Jordan took the elevator down to the lobby, breathing a sigh of relief when the sliding doors of the department closed behind her and she could escape the looks and whispers behind her back. In her car, she regarded herself critically in the mirror. They had rescued the baby from a volatile domestic abuse situation. The mother was barely conscious and transported to the hospital. It was unclear whether she would make it. The officers first on the scene had made a judgment call and notified the detectives.
They had been waiting for social services to arrive. The uniformed cop first on the scene had with unmistakable certainty found the woman with the least maternal instincts, when he handed the little girl to Jordan. She was cute. Jordan felt for her. However, she realized she was not capable of consoling a crying baby or handling being thrown up on. Her shirt might have to go in the trash. She felt like crying, angry at herself because of it, and all of it had little to do with the stained clothing. Jordan hated crying, always had.
It was good to be back at work though. It was what she needed. After all, she had a house to pay for. She had gotten a good deal, the fact that the man who had sold it to her was a serial killer, notwithstanding. She had a job and a roof over her head. Most importantly, she was alive, and so were Lori Gleason and Judy Lawrence. Others had not been so lucky. She had to remember that.
Walking up the stairs to her porch, Jordan was once again fascinated by how much this place felt like hers, like home. Her mind had blocked out the first visits with the realtor, or when she went to see him at his place and discovered a secret door leading to his torture chamber.
There were no ghosts in this house. It was her safe space, ironically. Jordan went straight to the bathroom where she stripped, tossing the shirt in the sink. She’d give it one more chance. She stepped into the shower stall, washing off the grime of the day in quick, brisk moves. While naked and vulnerable, she had to keep her mind blank, not have it invaded by flashes of the basement—or other, almost as disturbing memories that were bubbling closer to the surface lately.
Chances were Pratt wouldn’t remember her. She’d do her job, question him regarding Hobbs, move on. It wasn’t the universe conspiring against her that this happened now. Shit happened to good people, or those who tried to be. Wrapping the towel tightly around her, she sat on the rim of the tub, leaning forward.
Whether or not Jordan belonged into the category of good people wasn’t always clear to her—she had cheated on her girlfriend, not once, but twice. She had left another woman with many question marks. She owed her some answers, sometime soon.
Get up. Get dressed. Go to the damn party. She couldn’t bring herself to move. What if Pratt did remember her? Her picture had been all over the news. For all she knew, he was still hanging out with Jim and Kathryn Larson, worse, they might be around. She could perhaps get away with asking Derek to take care of Pratt, but she didn’t want him or anyone, for that matter, to think she couldn’t do the job. If she wanted special treatment, she’d need to give an explanation. Whether they’d go for the obvious one, or open a whole other can of worms, it would be bad for her in any case. Better to suffer through one morning of traveling back to a time she had long left behind.
Determined, Jordan put on clothes and dried her hair, willing herself to make it to tomorrow night. A couple of days off would do her some good, and maybe by then, Phil Hobbs would be back behind bars.
One of the best and most unpractical features of her new home was that it was a half hour drive, twenty minutes on a good day, to the city center. She enjoyed the more remote, suburban living, but it wasn’t close to work or any of the places her colleagues liked to hang out at the end of a shift. On the plus side, she might manage not to drink. The alternative was to spend an outrageous amount on cab fees. Jordan wasn’t yet sure which one it would be.
She could hear the voices, talk and laughter, from the outside, momentarily overwhelmed by the impulse to flee. It was ridiculous. In there were people who had worked hard to save her life. To gossip about her was the last thing on their minds, especially not when Marcus, the retiree, paid for the drinks tonight. Jordan walked inside, immediately scanning the room for Derek. He sat at the bar with another homicide detective, a recent addition to the department. Her eyes fell on another table in the corner, occupied by a group of rookies, third year, almost fourth. Jordan knew most of them by name as she had worked with them on one case or another, Kate, Jensen, Libby and…
Ellie.
Her back was turned to Jordan, so she hadn’t seen her coming in. Her hair was still blonde. Jordan smiled, remembering when Ellie had confessed she’d dyed it because of her ex’s preferences. She missed her, but some of the reasons why she’d broken up with her in the first place were still valid, and even more so than before. When they first met, Jordan had struggled with a separation that could turn ugly at any point—which was mostly her own fault—now she struggled to keep her life together, day by day. It was the kinder solution not to involve another person in the chaos. At this moment, Ellie turned in her chair, and their eyes met. Seconds ticked by before Ellie gave her a hesitant smile and then directed her attention back to her friends. Jordan had seen something else reflected in her gaze, the same longing that she felt, but couldn’t give in to, not yet. It was better this way, if painful, but they both knew a thing or two about how to handle pain.
“Hey, Jordan! It’s good to see you. I’m glad you made it.
” Especially since I almost ended up dead, she added what she suspected most of her co-workers of thinking these days, even though they wouldn’t say it out loud. She had to stop it. It wasn’t like she could read their minds, and she shouldn’t try.
The brief touch to her shoulder made her wince with the expected phantom pain. Her body had healed, and she’d been off the meds for a while, but her mind still played tricks on her sometimes.
“Congrats, Marcus,” she said. “You made it out of the madhouse on time.”
There it was, the concerned expression people wore in her presence these days. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m doing fine,” she stressed.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Jordan spun around at the sound of a familiar voice, and all of a sudden, she was far from fine. Talk about her mind playing tricks on her. The image of the woman standing in front of her, smiling ruefully, didn’t waver.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Marcus said. “Enjoy the party.”
Bethany waited until he had left to talk to a couple of other guests, then she leaned in to kiss Jordan on the cheek.
“Hi,” she said, almost a whisper. Jordan was still trying to make sense of her presence, let alone the too intimate greeting. No doubt, it had been a bad idea to come here.
“What are you doing here?” She made an effort to sound fairly polite. After all, they had vowed to communicate with each other like adults. Her question was legit. She couldn’t imagine Marcus, or anyone else in the department, inviting Bethany.
“For one, my therapist is kicking my ass.” Bethany shrugged. “I asked around a bit, took a chance that I might find you here.”
“Why do I have the feeling I might not want to be sober for this conversation?”
“Because you’re a jaded and suspicious person…and because you’re right. Look, Jordan, this isn’t easy for me. I didn’t come here to win you back though…” She sighed. “I really want to. I understand you need your space. I wanted to apologize.”
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