In the Shadow of the Shield (Secret Lives Series Book 2) (3 page)

Chapter Three

“It’s been almost a year since Dad died, Mom. Don’t you think it’s time for you to move on a little?” Jackson looked at her across the dinner table, concern in his eyes, which were as deep and dark as his father’s had been.

“When you love the same man for over twenty years, you don’t just move on, son.”

“I’m pretty sure Dad wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

Jackson would never understand what Donnie’s last moments had been like. She had only ever told her friend Cyndi, and then begged her not to tell. The doctors had determined Donnie’s death to be due to exposure to a toxic gas. It had made his blood so acidic it basically burned him alive from the inside. Knowing that it wasn’t her fault had brought her a little bit of peace, but not much. All the medical facts in the world wouldn’t take away the memory of their last conversation.

“I know, honey, I know. It’s been so
hard
.”

Jackson stood up and walked over to put his dinner plate in the sink. On his way back, he stopped and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s been hard for me too, Mom. I am graduating in a couple of months, and Dad won’t be there to see it.”

“He’ll be there, honey. Trust me on that. Your dad was so proud of you.”

“I really wish they had found the guy who ran the lab.”

“Me too.”

Jackson leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ve got to go now. I have a date with Lily.”

“Have fun. Oh, and make sure to be home by one.”

“You know I’m never late.”

She smiled at her son, who really looked like his father in that moment. “I know, and I appreciate you for it. You have always been such a wonderful son. What are you and Lily up to tonight?”

“We’re gonna catch a movie, and then hit a party for a bit.”

“No drinking and driving.”

“Mom!”

“Come on, Jackson, I’m your mother. It’s my job to say things like that.”

“Why don’t you call Miss Cyndi or Miss Angela or something? There’s a lot of good movies playing right now.”

“I’ll think about it.” She smiled at her son. “Go on now, and have fun.”

She heard Jackson laugh as he headed to the door. “Thanks, Mom!”

“But not too much fun!” Diana called as the door slammed shut.

The house fell deathly silent. Another Saturday night, and there she sat, alone. Again. She loaded the rest of the dinner plates into the dishwasher and cleaned up the skillet. That killed about ten minutes. It was seven thirty, and Jackson wouldn’t be home until one. Ugh.

It’s Saturday night, Di. There is one thing you could do.

She hadn’t picked up her work phone since the night Donnie died. Months of guilt had kept her away from her office. The dust had to be at least an inch thick.

She missed her job, even if it haunted her. Maybe she should try going back? A year was a long time to punish herself, and it wouldn’t take but an hour to clean things up in there. Her shift used to start at nine, and Rick had said she could come back whenever she wanted. Was she ready to work the phone again?

Donnie was gone, and she was lonely. She wasn’t ready to move on as her son suggested, but she did need to start getting back to her life again. A year of mourning was a long time. At least she could make a little money. Jackson would be heading off to college soon, and her widow’s pension from the police department wouldn’t make a dent in the tuition. Diana’s heart raced as tiny beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. Her hand shook as she reached for the doorknob to her office.

“Come on, Di, you can do this.” Her little pep talk didn’t stop the shaking, but she did manage to turn the knob and push the door open. The room looked exactly the way it did the day Donnie had died there. She walked over to her desk and ran a finger over it, leaving a trail in the dust. Not too bad. It could have been worse. That would clean up pretty quickly. The hole Donnie had punched in the wall the day he died was still there, a little pile of sheetrock on the floor below it. She walked over and placed her hand over the damage.

“I miss you, Donnie,” she whispered, running a finger along the edge of the broken wall.

Turning away, she wiped the dampness from her eyes and returned to her desk. The phone sat in the same place she had dropped it when Donnie overheard her last call. She knew Rick’s number by heart.

After three rings, a man answered. “‘lo?”

“Rick? It’s…”

“Misty Dawn! How
are
you, girl?”

“I’m, well, I guess I’m as fine as can be expected.”

“How long’s it been, baby?”

“A year, Rick. A long, hard year.”

“You’ve been missed around here. Leo called in every Saturday night for months looking for your extension. He’d punch it in, and then complain to the girl who got his call that he wanted you.”

“Leo. I forgot about him.” She actually chuckled. The poor guy probably hadn’t gotten off in twelve months.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure he misses you. A lot of people miss you. Any chance of you coming back?”

“Well, that’s actually why I was calling. Today’s Saturday.”

“It is.”

“I think I’m ready to give it a go again.”

“Woohoo!”

“I’m not sure how it will go, but I want to give it a try.”

“No problem, babe! I will get your extension back up and active. You will probably have to start with new clients, but I’m sure you’ll get plenty. That sexy southern drawl of yours pulls them in like flies to honey.”

This time she did laugh. It felt good to be talking to Rick again. Finally some semblance of her old life had returned. “All right then, Rick, set me up for nine. I’ll be here and ready to go.”

“You got it, Misty.” He turned serious. “It’s good to hear your voice again. I’m glad to have you back, and I’m real sorry ‘bout your hubby.”

“Thanks, Rick. It’s been a tough year, but my son has insisted I start living again so here I am, giving it a go.”

“Welcome home, Misty.”

Welcome home.
What an odd sentiment, under the circumstances. She bid Rick goodbye and set about cleaning up her office. It felt good to have a purpose. As the hands on the clock crept closer to nine, insecurity began to creep in. What if she had lost her touch?

Just like riding a bike. Things couldn’t have changed all that much in twelve months.

A
lot
had changed in twelve months. Her husband died thinking she had been unfaithful, and soon her son would move on with his life. She would have nothing to get her through her days—or the long, long nights—if she didn’t start carving a life out for herself again.

The shrill ring of her desk phone cut through the silence. The clock read nine on the dot. Rick had kept his promise and hooked up her extension. He must have held onto her old message too.

This is Misty Dawn, as sugary and delectable as a good, tall glass of southern sweet tea. To choose Misty Dawn, press extension 1274.

She grabbed the receiver and turned on her sweet, southern drawl. Yup, just like riding a bike.

“This is Misty Dawn. What’s your pleasure, sugar?”

“You sound pretty hot.”

“Why, bless your heart, sugar. Thank you. You don’t sound so bad yourself. What can Misty Dawn do for you tonight?”

“Do you like fruit, Misty Dawn?” This one was a foodie. She could work with that.

“I sure do, sugar. I love me some good, juicy, southern peaches.”

“I’d lick that juice off your chin.”

“I bet you would, baby, and it would taste just so
sweet
.”

“Sweet like chocolate syrup and whipped cream,”

“Anything you want it to taste like, baby.” She tried not to picture what the caller was doing with chocolate syrup and turned up the sugary glaze on her words. “Those peaches would be so fresh, so ripe.”

“Fresh. Ripe.” The caller panted into the phone line. Diana bit back a laugh. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed the quirks of her callers.

Quirks. Good one, Diana.

“Strawberries are sweet too. Not sour like cherries.”

“A little of that chocolate syrup could go a long way on those cherries.”

“Oh, yeah! You know how to work it, Misty Dawn!”

Work it? This guy was something else. He was probably a chef at one of the local restaurants.
Eeewww! Was he at work?

A minute later, the caller bid her farewell. He probably needed a shower to wash off all the chocolate sauce. Diana placed the receiver in its cradle, sat back in her chair, and started laughing. Loud guffaws formed deep in her abdomen and rolled out into the empty room, echoing off the walls and filling the quiet space around her. Until the phone rang again. Her next caller had a thing for cats, the one after that was a strict hand job, dirty talk kind of guy. The night passed quickly; call after call came in, and Diana had slipped perfectly back in to the role of southern belle Misty Dawn. She hadn’t lost her touch. At one in the morning, she switched off the phone and sat there contemplating her night.

“Mom!” Jackson called from somewhere in the house.

“In here!”

Jackson appeared in the doorway. “What are you still doing up, Mom? It’s nearly one in the morning.”

“I know, honey. I wasn’t tired.”

Jackson’s eyes swept the room. “You cleaned up in here.”

Diana shrugged, still grinning. “What can I say? I got bored.”

“I didn’t think you would ever come in here again, honestly.”

“I know, Jack. I wasn’t sure I ever would either. But tonight it seemed like a good idea. Did you have fun with Lily?”

Her son’s face fell. “Not really.”

“What happened?”

He scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the door frame. “We sort of broke up.”

“Oh, honey, no. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, Mom. It was for the best. I’m too young to be all wrapped up in one girl anyway.” His eyes dampened, but he didn’t cry. Donnie used to tell him that exact same thing every weekend when their son got home from wherever he and Lily had gone.

Diana rose from her chair and crossed the room to where her son stood. She tossed an arm over his shoulder and hit the light switch with her other hand. “You know what fixes a broken heart? Ice cream.”

Jackson laughed. “Ice cream, Mom?”

“Absolutely. Your grandfather used to say it was the best medicine in the world.”

She steered him toward the kitchen, where she dished them both up a big bowl of rocky road ice cream.

“I’m sorry about Lily.”

“Thanks, Mom. I sort of knew it was coming. I found text messages from Chris Watts in her phone last week.”

She couldn’t seem to get used to the concept of how kids dated in the twenty-first century. When she and Donnie were dating, he had to come to her house and meet her father before she could go anywhere with him. Jackson and Lily had been a couple for at least a few months before he had actually brought his girlfriend home to meet Diana and Donnie.

“You know, when your dad took me out for the first time he had to come to the house. Grandpa met him on the front porch with a twelve-gauge shotgun.”

Jackson laughed, spraying chocolate ice cream across the counter. “Seriously?”

Diana chuckled as she wiped the counter down with a towel. “Absolutely. Girls didn’t go out on dates without introducing the boy to their parents first.”

“Lily and I were together for two months before I met her parents.”

“I thought so.”

“Well, we weren’t really boyfriend and girlfriend yet though. We were just talking.”

“Talking?”

“Yeah, it’s when a guy and girl are interested in each other. They text and stuff to decide if they want to go out.”

“When you two finished
talking
did Lily’s dad introduce you to his shotgun?”

“Of course not! That’s so antiquated.”

Only her kid would use the term antiquated. “So, you want to tell me what Lily and Chris were talking about in those texts you found?”

“Not really.”

“Want to explain how you found them?”

“Nope.”

Jackson concentrated on cleaning every last drop of ice cream out his bowl while she watched her son, feeling a little bit sad. It cut her to the heart when her only son hurt.

She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “Things always happen for a reason, Jack. We don’t always know or understand why, but the good Lord always has a plan.”

He dropped his bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. “I suppose. Although I wish I knew why that plan included Dad dying.”

“Me too, honey. Me too.”