Perfect Fit (16 page)

“Marshall, you have company.”

The judge turned his gaze from the television, which had
Wheel of Fortune
on the screen. At seventy-three, the judge was still a young-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair, who had retired because of his condition and not because he’d been ready to leave the bench.

He glanced at Cara and Mike with clear eyes. “Well, who do we have here?”

“I told you the new police chief, Michael Marsden, was coming to visit, remember? And he’s brought Officer Cara Hartley with him. They want to ask you a few questions,” his wife explained, as she walked over and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from the blanket on her husband’s lap.

He squeezed her hand, and she stepped away. “I’ll go get some refreshments,” she said.

“No, please don’t go to any trouble,” Cara said.

“We won’t bother you long,” Mike said to Judge Baine.

She nodded. “If you change your mind, let me know.” With a wave, she walked away.

Mike and Cara settled into chairs across from the judge. “So how can I help you two young people today?” he asked.

“We need you to go back about thirty years,” Mike said. “To a case about a guy stopped for a traffic violation who had drugs and thousands of dollars of marked bills in his trunk.”

Mike had been smart in laying out the facts for the judge. Even if he’d seen hundreds of drug cases over the years, he surely hadn’t had many that involved marked bills.

Judge Baine raised his gaze to the ceiling, and Cara figured
he was thinking back. She glanced at Mike, who studied the older man but waited patiently.

“That’d be 1983, right?”

“That’s right,” Cara said softly.

“Oh, my years on the bench, the stories I could tell you.” And for the next twenty minutes, with the television and Pat Sajak blaring in the background, that was what he did, allowing Cara to understand why people said those with Alzheimer’s had no problem with long-term memory.

It was short-term memory that caused more of an issue, and that became clear when the judge wound down his storytelling and focused on Cara. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

She blinked in surprise. “I—uh—”

“She’s with me, Your Honor,” Mike said, speaking deferentially to the older man.

“Oh, Rex. Didn’t I tell you not to come see me here at home?”

Cara’s eyes widened in surprise, and Mike flinched as if Judge Blaine had slapped him—instead of calling him by his biological father’s name.

Mike leaned forward in his seat. “It’s Mike. Mike Marsden, Simon’s son.”

“Remember to keep this from your partner. He’s as straight as they come, and we can’t risk him finding out,” the judge said in a warning tone.

Cara’s gaze shot to Mike, but he was focused on the older man.

“What can’t we risk Simon knowing about?” Mike asked him.

Suddenly, the older man looked around frantically. “Did you hear that? Someone else is here. They’re talking and listening to us. I told you we can’t talk here,” he said, sounding panicked.

“It’s just the television.” She spoke in what she hoped was a soothing voice, but the judge didn’t calm down.

“Mary, Mary?” the judge called out loudly, tossing the blanket off his lap. “Who else is here?”

Mike and Cara rose from their seats at the same time his wife came running in.

“I was worried he’d get like this. Was he able to help you with information before he got upset?” she asked, wrapping an arm around her husband.

“He did his best,” Cara assured the woman.

As if by silent agreement, she and Mike edged toward the door, knowing their visit had come to an end.

“Would you mind letting yourselves out? I don’t want to leave him alone,” his wife asked.

“Of course. We’ll be fine,” Cara said.

She followed Mike through to the entryway, out the front door, and back to his truck. He didn’t say a word as he started the engine, nor did she ask him to. She knew he needed to process what he’d heard and come to his own conclusions.

“Can you take me home to get my car? I need to head over to Havensbridge.” She knew Mike wouldn’t be coming with her now.

He turned to face her. “You don’t want to talk about what we just heard?”

“Not until you’re ready.” Clearly the judge had known Rex Bransom thirty years ago, and they obviously shared a secret they hadn’t wanted Simon to know. Whatever Mike’s next step, he deserved space to figure it out on his own time.

He blinked in surprise but remained silent.

“Take me to my car?” she asked again.

Mike shook his head and laughed at the irony. Unlike most women, Cara seemed to know he needed time to wrap his head around this mess, and instead of talking nonstop or pressing him for his feelings, she was letting him be.

Yeah, she was unique all right. No wonder she’d gotten to him. And there was the irony. She made him want to open up. “I’ve always done my best not to think about him,” Mike heard himself say.

“Rex,” she whispered.

“Yeah.” He rubbed his burning eyes with the back of one hand and thought about the judge’s words. “I can’t say I’m shocked that the guy who abandoned my mother and me was into something shady. At least he’s stayed out of our lives, and I’ve been grateful for that.”

Though sometimes, when he was younger, Mike had wished his real dad would come back and say he’d made a mistake, he’d never meant to leave, and Mike would have both Simon and Rex in his life. But then he’d grown up and realized that only a coward ran off on his commitments—like he’d run from Tiffany. He’d hurt her, but she hadn’t been pregnant, and he’d made his escape before things got any more out of hand.

By getting Ella pregnant, Rex had an obligation he’d ignored. Mike had vowed never to be like him, and after coming too damned close, he’d kept his promise by keeping women at arm’s length. He was better off without Rex Bransom anywhere in his life.

“But he’s got the answers you need,” Cara said, getting to the crux of the issue.

“Yeah.” And the thought of tracking Rex down after all these years turned Mike’s stomach.

“You could try talking to Simon again.”

He nodded. “I thought of that. But he already clammed up on Sam, and that means he must know something about the money in the evidence locker, or Rex, that he wants to keep to himself. And I don’t want him overstressed during his treatment.”

“You love him,” Cara said softly.

Mike couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. He put up with me.” To Mike, that meant everything. “So what are my choices? Track down my wayward real father or harass a sick man for answers.” He blew out a breath in disgust.

Cara reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You aren’t in this alone.”

“I appreciate that, but yeah, I am.” He’d always been alone or felt that way.

“No, that’s in here.” She tapped his head. “You’ve got a family that loves you. They don’t consider you adopted or not one of them. Do you understand how lucky you are to have siblings? A mother you can go to? A father you love who
will
get through this?” Her voice cracked.

And he realized it was because she had none of those things. As shitty as his life felt at the moment, she was right. He had a support system, even if he didn’t always feel like he deserved them.

He lifted one long curl of her hair and twisted it around his hand. “You’re a pretty wise woman.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I just think I’m an honest one.”

He grinned. “Well, what you said about family? That’s given me an idea. Before I have to face looking for my old man, maybe I’ll ask my mother what she remembers about that time.”

Cara blinked, startled. “Your mother? Why?”

Mike narrowed his gaze. “Because she was around, she knew Rex and Simon, and maybe she can shed some light on things. I know she can handle talking about the past. She’s tough.” But Cara’s wide-eyed stare made him uneasy. “Any reason I shouldn’t ask?”

Cara looked out the window at the empty residential street ahead of them. “No. Of course not. You should talk to your mom. You’re right. She may remember things.”

“Good.” Talking to his mother would buy him time to come to terms with the fact that sooner or later he’d have to track down his father and face his past.

“Before I visit my mother, I’ll bring you home so you can get over to Havensbridge.”

“You’re going so soon?” she asked.

“Why put it off? Unless Dad’s awake and we aren’t alone.
Then I’ll hang with him for a while and talk to her next time he goes to chemo on Monday.”

“Okay.”

He pulled the truck onto the street and headed back to Cara’s. The townhouse community where she lived was new, the units not too large or too small, the yards in the back private enough to keep all residents comfortable. He liked that she had a place of her own, away from the turmoil with her parents.

He parked in front of her condo. “I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow night for dinner with Ethan and Faith.”

“Oh! Right.”

He tugged on her ponytail. “Did you forget?”

She faced him with a sheepish grin. “Of course not! I just wasn’t thinking about it at the moment. And now that you reminded me…”

“What?”

“I need to go into town and buy something to wear.” She bit down on her lower lip, and he wanted to pull it into his mouth and nibble for himself.

“Don’t make yourself crazy. They’re old friends and they’re just like us. Ask Dare.”

“Okay, fine.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” She turned and reached for the door.

“Cara, aren’t you forgetting something?”

She swiveled back to him. “What?”

He leaned over and cupped his hand behind her head, pulling her close. “This,” he said, sealing his lips over hers.

She moaned and responded immediately, opening her mouth and sliding her tongue against his. God, she was so damned responsive, easing the ache that had been present in his chest since Judge Baine’s outburst about Mike’s real father.

“I’ve got to go,” she murmured against his mouth. But she didn’t back away.

“You sure?” He licked at her already moist lips.

“No. Yes. Yes.” She sat up, blue eyes glazed, cheeks pink, ponytail messed from his hand.

He couldn’t tear his gaze from her pretty face.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said, reaching for the door once more.

“Cara, when I bring you home tomorrow night, I’m staying over.”

“Is that a promise?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with desire.

He nodded. “Now
go
.”

She laughed before hopping out of the truck and running to her front door. He waited until she was safely inside before driving away.

Nine

Mike strode into his parents’ house with dread. A real
case of need to know, don’t want to know. His mom had asked him to come on Saturday instead of Friday, so he’d put off any confrontation or discussion until today. Kojak greeted him in the foyer with yapping barks, and Mike scooped the little dog into his arms.

“Michael!” His mom met him in the den, ready with a hug and a kiss on his cheek.

“Hi, Mom.” He hugged her back.

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

He smiled. “I’m glad I’m here too. It’s nice to see you more than every couple of months.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

He leaned back against the comfortable sofa cushion and paused to think. Not because he wasn’t happy to be here but because he knew what she meant. Was he happy to be in Serendipity, living here and not in the city?

“I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would,” he admitted.

“The job? Or being here?” His mother was dressed in a chocolate-brown sweat suit, looking as sharp as ever, despite the tiredness drawing deeper lines in her beautiful face.

“Both,” he said easily. So far he had no signs of antsiness or wanting to leave the small town where he’d grown up.

“That’s good!” His mom sounded as surprised as he felt. “Does Cara have something to do with that?” she asked, leaning forward and pressing personal issues as only a mother could.

He grinned indulgently. “Have I ever discussed my private life with you?”

She laughed. “As long as she makes you happy,” Ella said, putting her own interpretation on his words.

The correct interpretation, but Mike wasn’t about to tell her that. She’d be pushing him for more than he was ready to think about or admit. For all he knew, he’d wake up tomorrow needing the freedom of getting lost in Manhattan.

“Mom,” he said in a warning tone.

“Fine. Just so you know, your father and I approve. In case you were wondering.”

He wasn’t. He never had before. But a funny warmth spread through him now. Mike cleared his throat, reminding himself that he was here for a reason. “Where’s Dad?” he asked.

“Taking a nap. But he’s doing well with his treatments, and the doctor is really pleased.”

Mike let out a long breath. “I’m glad.”

“Me too. They say this exhaustion and weakness will go away after he finishes chemotherapy. I hope they’re right.”

“I’ve heard it takes a while for people to come back to themselves,” he cautioned her. “Some people are never quite the same.” He spoke gently, but wanted to prepare her.

She nodded, swallowing hard. “I know, honey. But I need to think positively to get through this and your father, and his will to live and get better…it’ll be fine.”

“I agree.” He sat forward, elbows on his knees. “Mom, I need to talk to you.”

“Of course. What is it?”

Mike broke into a sweat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d broached the subject of Rex. Though he meant it when he’d told Cara his mother was strong, neither one of them would enjoy this talk.

Better to get it over with
, he thought. “I have questions about Rex Bransom.”

The color leeched from her face.

Mike rose and was beside her in an instant. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting…”

“I know. But something’s come up from years ago, and there are things I need to ask you.”

She nodded slowly, color returning to her cheeks. “You can ask me anything, you know that.”