A Silent Fury (19 page)

“Leave Alan Jr. there. On the couch.”

Stacy paused, then sighed and set him down. He clung to her and said, “Don't leave me.”

Grief spasmed her features. “All right, baby, I'll stay with you.”

Joseph sucked in a relieved breath. She hadn't given away
his location yet. And they were still in the line of fire. She'd been trying to get the boy away from them, trying to open up the opportunity for Joseph to get Cheryl.

The child hadn't seen him, so hopefully he would stay put on the couch. He reached around his mother to pick up a stuffed turtle, clutching it close while never taking his eyes from his grandmother and the gun.

Joseph stayed put behind the cover of the wall, tapping his radio twice to let Catelyn know he was in. She tapped back once. Good, she got his message.

“Cheryl,” he said. The woman whirled to stare at him in shock.

“How did you get in here?” she demanded.

He ignored her. “Why did you shoot Zachary?”

 

Catelyn figured her negotiating time had run out. Joseph was inside. She raced the few remaining steps to the broken window, doing her best to stay out of the line of fire should someone decide to send another bullet that way.

She knew Ethan had Joseph's back.

Officers swarmed the house, weapons drawn.

Looking through the window, Catelyn saw the woman was distracted, noticed Joseph watching. Slowly, she reached through the broken window and silently unlatched it and raised it in one smooth movement. She slipped in and landed in the den—and came face-to-face with Cheryl Frazier as she whirled toward the noise. “Drop your gun, Cheryl.”

Tears of frustration streamed down the woman's cheeks. Alan Jr. sat on his mother's lap, his little hands covering his ears, eyes squeezed shut, as he rocked back and forth. Catelyn softened her voice. “Your family needs you, Cheryl. Don't add anything else to your list of things to fight.”

Stacy begged, “Stop, Mama. I need you. Alan Jr. needs you. Look around you. You can't fight them and win.”

The hand holding the pistol shook. Cheryl drew in a steadying breath. “Get them out of here.” She motioned to Stacy and Alan Jr.

Catelyn gave the order to the officers. Immediately, they ushered the two out of the house. The woman started moving toward the kitchen, the gun held out in front of her not aimed at anyone. Yet.

“Ma'am, I really need you to stop and put the gun down.”

“I really didn't want to hurt anyone. I was just taking care of my family, just like I always have.”

Ethan appeared in the hallway. He looked at Catelyn and she could almost read his mind. He had a clean shot. She shook her head.

Joseph held his gun steady as he moved with the woman. “I understand that, ma'am. You were just protecting your family. But we can't resolve any of this as long as you hold on to that gun.” Cheryl stepped into the kitchen, still facing Joseph and now Ethan.

Catelyn stepped next to Joseph so she could see the woman. “Cheryl, what are doing? You need to put the gun down.”

“I didn't want to get blood on the carpet.” She spoke casually and it didn't occur to Catelyn what she meant until she swung the gun up to rest the business end against her temple.

“Stop!”

Joseph had gone to his knees the moment the gun started moving. Ethan had pulled back around the corner against the wall and Catelyn had done the same move with the opposite wall. Now she realized what Cheryl meant when she said she didn't want to get blood on the carpet. Kitchen linoleum was much easier to clean up.

For a brief moment, the woman's face morphed into Catelyn's father's. She blinked. Joseph, still on his knees, kept
his gun aimed just in case Mrs. Frazier decided to swing her weapon around and point it at him.

And Catelyn wanted to step in front of him.

The feeling stunned her; shook her to the core and swept her entire being with nausea.

She pushed it away. They had one more thing to deal with. “Mrs. Frazier, why did you shoot Zachary?”

Mrs. Frazier's gun hand shook, tremor after tremor. Catelyn prayed she wouldn't spasm and pull the trigger. “He was going to tell Alan that Stacy was going to divorce him. Alan Dillard was that boy's hero. He never knew…”

“He never knew what Alan was, right? He never knew what was going on between Alan and Tracy? And he never told Stacy that Alan was having an affair, did he? She lied to us in the hospital to protect you, didn't she?”

“Yes, she lied. I think Tracy tried to tell Zachary that Alan wasn't all he was cracked up to be, but the boy just wouldn't listen. And when Stacy came home…the day of the visitation, right before the visitation…she was hysterical.”

Joseph asked, “Why?”

“She'd met with Zachary and tried to reason with him. He wouldn't have any part of it. He was going to tell Alan the next time he saw him.”

“And Stacy was afraid of Alan's reaction?”

The gun lowered a tad as her elbow drooped. Her arm was getting tired. Keep her talking, Joseph.

“Stacy was afraid of Alan, period.”

“He was abusive.”

With a tight jaw, the woman nodded. “In every way imaginable. But when Alan went after Alan Jr….”

Catelyn winced—every mother's nightmare. “She'd had enough.”

Her arm trembled, the gun shifted. “He threatened to take
Alan Jr. from her and never let her see him again.” A harsh laugh escaped her. “And I have no doubt he would have followed through with it. Stacy tried to find help, even went to the police to see what she could do.”

“Why is there no record of this on file? We did an extensive background check on Alan.”

“Did you come across who Alan's favorite poker buddy was?” she snapped.

“No.”

“Try Mayor McCloud.”

Understanding darkened Catelyn's brain. She made a mental note to do a little research into Mayor McCloud's life. She watched the gun in the woman's hand. It was almost pointing to the ceiling at this stage. She was so busy telling her story, she wasn't paying attention to the weapon. Just a little bit more and she could…

“So, Zachary and Stacy met the afternoon of the visitation. Stacy tried to talk him out of telling Alan about the divorce. But, wait a minute…how did Zachary know about it in the first place?”

“That stupid kid went over to my Stacy's house looking for Alan one afternoon after his sister was killed. Just walked right in. Stacy was in the kitchen going over the papers. Zachary saw them and stormed out with Stacy yelling at him not to tell, that she was just thinking about it and didn't really mean it.”

“So she came to you, and you decided to take care of the situation.”

She closed her eyes as though pained at the memory.

And Catelyn struck.

She gave a flying tackle and clipped the woman around the knees. Shrieking, Mrs. Frazier went down, Catelyn landing on top of her.

Joseph was beside them in a heartbeat, kicking the weapon
aside. Ethan grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back.

And then all the fight went out of her.

Panting, Catelyn rose to her feet and helped Joseph pull the weeping Mrs. Frazier to hers. Ethan went to tell everyone that it was over.

Catelyn said, “Just one more question, how did you get off the balcony of the funeral home without anyone seeing you?”

Tears dripped off the woman's chin and she sniffed. “It was so easy. I simply crawled into one of the coffins in the room off the balcony. There were plenty to choose from.” Hands now cuffed behind her back, she shrugged. “I chose an empty one.”

Joseph spoke up. “You used Alan's gun to shoot Zachary. How did you get your hands on it and how did it wind up back at his house? Our CSU guys found it.”

“I have a key to the house. I simply went by when no one was home. I was hoping you would find the gun and blame the shooting on Alan.”

Catelyn shook her head. Oh, what a tangled web we weave…

 

Now that the case was officially closed, Catelyn had one last thing to take care of. She had to decide if she was strong enough to love a cop—and if she could be the kind of wife Joseph wanted.

She finally admitted it to herself.

She loved Joseph. Had loved him for a long time.

But did she love him enough?

She wanted to. And that scared her and yet thrilled her all at the same time. And Sandy was right. She and Joseph did have something her parents had neglected from the start of their relationship.

God.

But could she quit her job for him? She just didn't know.

She dreaded the next item on her to-do list for the day, yet was determined to get through it.
Please, Jesus, I need Your strength.

She thought she heard someone call her name, but not in the mood for conversation, she ignored it and continued on like she hadn't heard. Climbing into her car, she cranked it and took off. In the rearview mirror, she could see Joseph standing in the parking lot, hand raised.

Guilt hammered her. That was really rude. She was going to have to talk to him at some point. But she just wasn't ready for the conversation she knew he wanted to have.

And she wanted to be ready.

I could have just talked to the man. Told him I needed some space. Lord, what do I do? What do You want? I'm so messed up inside over my parents, I just don't know if I can ever have a normal relationship with another cop. Especially an overprotective one. But I do know what I need to do right now. I need to let go of my anger, Lord. I need to let it go and I need Your help to do that.

She picked up her phone and punched in Joseph's number. He answered on the first ring. “Hey.”

“I'm sorry.”

“For?”

“For ignoring you in the parking lot. I just…I've got something I need to do and I…want to do it alone.”

“All you had to do was say something.” She winced at the hurt in his voice.

“I know. I had a brief moment of cowardice. That's why I'm calling. I owed you an apology.”

“Apology accepted. So when do you think you'll be ready to talk?”

“Soon, okay?”

“Do you want me to come with you wherever you're going?”

She thought about what she was going to do. “Yes. No. I'm not sure.”

He gave a small laugh. “Okay, that's clear.”

Heaving a sigh, Catelyn turned to make her way through the gates of the cemetery. Winding around the narrow paths, she said, “I guess not. Maybe I need to do this on my own. Face my demon, so to speak.”

“Call me when you're done?”

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

“All right. See you soon.”

She hung up and turned right. She'd only been here one other time, the day of the funeral, but the way to her father's grave was permanently embedded in her mind.

Parking to the side, she slowly climbed from her vehicle. Not really sure why she felt the need to do this to herself, she kept a prayer on her lips as she made her way over to the grave.

Someone had left fresh flowers. Who? A buddy from the force, no doubt.

Catelyn knelt, not caring if the grass left a stain on the knees of her faded jeans. She touched the headstone. Traced the words that had been carved into it.

Harold James Clark. Family man and devoted defender of the peace. Gone too early.

Yeah. Too early. Well, whose fault is that?

Then the grief hit her.

And the memories flooded her. The good ones. Ones she hadn't thought about in over a decade. The ones that had been overshadowed by the anger she felt toward the man who'd given up and killed himself. The ones recorded in the “fun book” she'd taken to her mother the day after they'd arrested Cheryl Frazier.

“Oh, Daddy,” she whispered, “I miss you.”

She closed her eyes and let the tears fall. She'd been his pride and joy when she'd been small, riding on his shoulders, laughing, giggling and wearing his uniform hat.

Why was she just now remembering this?

She remembered the swing in their big backyard. He'd pushed her to the sky, so high her toes could “touch God.”

She remembered his big booming voice every day, the minute he walked in the door. “Gimme a hug, kiddo!” And she'd run to him and he'd swing her up in his big muscular arms and squeeze the breath out of her. She remembered her mother watching the two of them and smiling. Catelyn let out a sob. She remembered her mother
smiling. Oh, thank you, God, for that.