“I keep seeing him there,” she whispered, her voice choked. “In the grass. I can’t believe this happened.”
He turned her in his arms and her fists clenched against his chest before her hands splayed flat, her fingers digging into his skin as another barrage of sobs tore through her. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Cry if you need to. I won’t leave you.” He stroked her hair until her sobs quieted and her breath hitched.
She rubbed her palm over his chest, swiping at the tears. “I got you all wet.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I need to think.”
“No, honey. You need to grieve, and that’s a long road. Kane was a good man, a good cop. He was your partner. You spent more time together than most people do with their spouse. He had your back and you trusted him. You loved him.”
“Yes.” It was a hoarse whisper. “I didn’t cry like this when my mother died.”
He heard the guilt in her voice. “You’re not a bad daughter because you didn’t.”
She lifted her head, peered at him in the darkness. “What?”
“You’re feeling guilty because you’re grieving Kane more intensely than your mother, right?”
She nodded, tears falling again. “She was my mother. I mean I cried, but this is different. I feel like my heart’s being ripped out of me. What kind of daughter does that make me, if not a bad one?”
“That night in Chicago, you told me you missed her, that you loved her.”
“I did?”
“Yeah, you did. But I get the impression that things between you were never easy.”
She lowered her head to his shoulder with a sigh. “No, they weren’t. She loved me, I know she did. But I never seemed to make her happy. I could never do anything right. And sometimes she’d look at me like she hated me. I never understood why until I saw Mia for the first time.”
“At your father’s funeral.”
“I rushed to Chicago as soon as I heard he’d died and got there just in time for the burial. Mia was wearing her dress blues, standing next to the coffin with her mother. The cops folded the flag and gave it to the wife, then she turned and almost shoved the flag into Mia’s arms. I remember standing there, hating them both so much. Then Mia looked up and I couldn’t breathe. It was like looking in a mirror.”
“She was pretty shaken, too.”
“I know. It was at that moment I realized we must both look like our father.”
“You didn’t know what he looked like?”
“I never even knew his name. My mother never talked about him. When I was little, I’d imagine what he was like. I’d wonder if he was walking around somewhere with amnesia or something. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t want me.”
David had to swallow hard, picturing her as a child. “My parents loved each other and they loved us. I’ll always be grateful for that. I’m sorry you didn’t have that.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re grateful. I used to get so mad at kids who hated their fathers for something stupid, like not getting a car or clothes. I just wanted to have a dad. When I got older, I badgered my mother to tell me about him. Finally accused her of not telling him I existed. That’s when she lost her temper and told me that he was a cop in Chicago. He was married. He’d lied to her, said his wife had left him. That he’d promised to marry her when I was born. Then when I was, he decided to stay with his other family. His wife and kids. I didn’t know his name or theirs, but I hated them all.”
“How did you find out he’d died?”
“From my mother’s sister. I tried so many times to get my mother to tell me his name, but she wouldn’t. It was a big area of contention between us. Finally, she died without telling me. I thought I’d never know. But then I got a call from my aunt, who saw his obituary. My mother had confided in her, years ago. Made her promise not to tell me, but my aunt knew I needed the closure.” Her voice hardened. “Then I met Mia and found out I was better off with no father than the father she’d lived with. I was glad he didn’t want me then.”
“That was a hard few weeks for you,” he murmured and she lifted her head again.
“What do you mean?”
He hesitated. “I know about Doug. How he left.”
“Who told you?” Then her eyes narrowed. “Barlow. Damn his meddling.”
“I asked first. For what it’s worth, he feels horrible. When I heard the story, so did I.” She looked down, saying nothing and he felt compelled to fill the silence. “Olivia, your ex was an ass. But even though I know he hurt you, I’m glad he left. I’m glad I met you. I know you don’t believe me, but I’d been waiting for you. Maybe my whole life.”
She finally looked up, her eyes filled with hurt. “Then why did you say her name?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll never know. I do know that I only drank too much twice in my life. Once eighteen years ago, and then, that night with you. Maybe I was scared. I met you and I knew. I knew you were special. Maybe too special. It was like you could see inside me, and I didn’t want anyone that close.”
“Because they’d find out what you didn’t want anyone to know.”
He nodded. “Olivia, Dana was never more than a fantasy. She made things happen, she stood for the same people I’d been working to help for years. She was a crusader. But I never had anything else in common with her. We never stayed up all night talking about everything under the sun. I certainly never told her about Megan. I don’t know why I said her name that night. I can only tell you that after I met you, I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”
She held his eyes in the darkness. “And if she were to suddenly become free?”
And come back, like her fiancé’s old love had. “I wouldn’t go. Because I’m not free. I wasn’t from the moment I met you.” He traced his fingertips over her cheek, her lips. “You might not believe that now. But if you give me time, heart, trust… you will.”
Her lips curved, so slightly he might have missed it had he not been so focused on her face. “Helluva line, David.”
“No line. You’ll see. I’ll show you.” He cradled her head in his palm and pulled her back to his chest. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Wednesday, September 22, 6:25 a.m.
He pulled into his parking place behind the Deli, annoyed. Austin hadn’t texted back and Kenny’s cell phone account had been frozen. He entered through the kitchen to find his staff already at work preparing breakfast sandwiches. He grunted a greeting and they grunted right back, just as they did every morning. Important to keep a routine in case anyone became suspicious.
He’d left his hat behind. He still couldn’t get over that stupidity.
He switched on the television behind the counter and stood watching the news. Last night’s fire was big news. Four dead. Several injured, including a firefighter. Then came the bomb scare at the school and the death of Detective Kane.
He made a mental note to cut back on his pastrami order.
The next segment was Captain Abbott delivering a message to Austin, complete with interpreter, begging Austin to contact them. My priority is finding Austin before the cops do. Using one of his disposable cells, he entered Austin’s number.
It’s Kenny. New account. Cops took old fon. Where r u? I have place you can hide.
He hit SEND, then started another. Cops?ed me all night. Know about u. I didn’t tell, swear. They lie. Don’t trust them. And he hit SEND again.
He closed his phone, slipped it in his pocket. He wouldn’t panic. If the cops knew about him, they’d have been here waiting in full SWAT gear. He clipped his mike tuner to his belt, put the bud in his ear and hoped Austin checked his messages soon.
Wednesday, September 22, 7:00 a.m.
Olivia must have slept because a trilling cell phone alarm woke her up. She lay spooned against David, not opening her eyes as he reached over her to silence the alarm. He ran his hand up her arm, cupping her neck and massaging the base of her skull with his thumb. “We have to get up.”