Safely Home (20 page)

She’d paid the price for her stubborn stupidity, and what a price it was.

But no more.

As they drew nearer to the state line, she fought a tiny surge of panic,
drew a breath and prayed for strength, for guidance, for the guts to see this through.

The soft strains of Celtic voices, women’s vo
ices, sang of being lifted, raised to walk on mountains, braving stormy seas. The harmonic meld and soulful words spoke to Cress’s heart, soothing her soul, reaching deep within. She’d been knocked down, literally and figuratively. She’d been soul-weary for way too long.

But now…

Things were changing. She was changing. She hadn’t thought it possible, or maybe even necessary, but these weeks at home, the trials of the city, the job, the destructive relationship…

Change
wasn’t only necessary, it loomed imperative. And nice. Warm. Welcoming. A comfort from the storm, the raging seas of unrest and fear.

The soulful words blanketed her, nudging open a door she hadn’t seen until lately. And now that door
stood as the only logical choice, the only good choice, and it had taken a dark of night bullet and an old woman’s cancer to grab her attention, point her to that door, but she saw it now, in all its small-town opportunity.

She chanced a glance
Alex’s way. A little smile softened his rugged chin, the comfortable GQ appearance he wore as easily as Brett Favre wore Wranglers, an easy sight to behold.

They didn’t struggle for small talk. He left her in peace, the music washing over her, tipping her closer to a decision with each s
ong of warmth. As the Minneapolis suburbs tweaked awareness, she relaxed into the thought of being held through tough times, strong, gentle hands steadying her. She’d see Carl, talk with him, spill her guts and let the pieces fall where they may. Pushing her fear down, she stepped out of the car as soon as Alex angled into a spot in the park, the slope of the treed hill leading toward the lake. She turned full circle, scanning the area cop-style, a buzz of electricity zinging her pulse.

“You okay?” His gruff voice betrayed his worry.

She smiled up at him. “Much better. Thank you.”

“Where’s he meeting you?”

She jerked her head to the right. “Picnic tables just beyond that grove of trees.”

Alex
frowned. “A little off the beaten path, isn’t it?”

She raised a hand and caressed his cheek, his chin. “It’s Carl. He’s like a brother to me. I’ll be fine.”

“Still, this end of the park is a little remote.” Alex’s gaze scanned the area. “School’s back in session, there’s no one around.”

“They’re predicting rain,” Cress argued, sensible. “It’s always quieter then and Carl and I weren’t looking for an audience.”

“I know.” Alex took her hand. “I’ll walk you in.”

“
Alex—”

“It’s no use arguing, so why try?”

She grinned and leaned her head against a very nice chest. “I wasn’t going to argue. I was going to say thank you.”

“Oh.” He puffed his shoulders and jutted his chin like one of Gran’s old roosters. “Well. You’re welcome.”

They walked along a path through mixed hardwoods, a tint of color challenging the mantel of green. Squirrels darted, a few gulls swooped down, then flew back up and away, as if second-guessing themselves, knowing it was time to seek warmer places.

A lone man sat at a picnic table, his face turned their way. He rose when he spotted Cress and closed the distance between them
in quick, short strides, then grabbed Cress into a hug and spun her around. “You’re late.”

Her laughter relaxed
Alex a smidge. He couldn’t pretend to like the idea of leaving her here no matter how much Carl liked or respected her. He didn’t know Carl, but he knew Cress and this visit wasn’t going to be easy on her.

But she’d kick his butt if he insisted on staying, so once the introductions were done he took her hand and met her gaze. “Your cell’s on?”

“Yes.”

“Call me if you need me.”

“Will do.”

“And I’ll be back,” he eyed his watch, wanting to shorten this visit, wanting to take her back to Watkins Ridge and quit the Twin Cities altogether, wanting to shelter her, chase the chaos and the clutter for good.

But he didn’t have that power. That lay within her, by facing the past and slaying the demons one by one.

“At one like we said. And that gives you enough time to get your errands done, right? The ones you made up so I wouldn’t feel bad about leaving you on your own in the big city.”

He grinned and touched his forehead to hers, then raised a troubled gaze to Carl. “She’s okay with you?” The question asked more than either man acknowledged.

Carl nodded, regret darkening his features. “This time, yes.”

Alex read what Cress couldn’t see. Carl felt as bad about her injury as she did. Alex nodded. “I’ll be back.”

Cress caught his hand as he turned to go, her fingers feeling small and soft for such a hard-nosed detective. “
Alex... Thank you.”

He squeezed her fingers. “
One o’clock.”

He left before he decided not to, before he pulled a total caveman Neanderthal turnabout and dragged her out of there
.

S
he’d no doubt clean his clock if he went overboard on the protective instinct thing, but he’d feel a whole lot better about all this if he could just stay, watch her back.

W
isdom told him she needed to make these inroads on her own, find her way back to solid ground. He just prayed it wasn’t a real difficult road. From what he’d witnessed so far, Cress’s path had seen trouble enough.

*

“You look good.” Carl’s approving look made Cress feel instantly better. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but you look,” he swept her a glance and nodded satisfaction. “Good.”

“I feel better.”

“About?” He led the way back to the table, waited until she sat, then settled across from her.

“Everything. Mostly,” she corrected herself. She eyed the lake, the sand, the rim of gray surrounded by deeper tones of blue, the promised clouds
just left of the sun. “But I had to see you, Carl. Apologize.”

“For what?” His tone spiked along with his left brow. “For taking a bullet meant for me? For covering my butt when I should have had the perimeter?”

She laid a hand over his and shook her head. “You had the perimeter. I knew that. I was...” she paused, glanced outward, then brought her gaze back to his, reluctant, “distracted.”

“You were fine,” he argued. “You did everything by the book, just like you should have. I never saw the shooter. Didn’t have a clue.”

“Me, either.”

“It’s
wrong, isn’t it?” Carl mused, gripping her hand, his face a study of regret and remorse. “That a twenty-two-year-old street punk juked two experienced detectives and downed one of them.”

“Perils of the job.
” She leaned back and let the rising wind wash over her. “But I’m learning that it’s okay to put things in perspective. To relax a little. Be me.”

Carl nodded toward the trees where
Alex had disappeared. “He helping?”

She laughed. “Oddly, yes. I went home to lick my wounds and hide like an injured bear, and there he was. Almost like he was waiting for me.”

Carl leaned in, teasing. “Like it was part of a plan.” He raised a knowing brow. “A God thing.”

Was it?

Maybe.

Meeting Carl’s gaze, she shrugged and nodded. “Could be. Gran’s treatment is showing promise, I’m just about back to normal, I’ve babysat little kids and no one’s died.” She tilted a smile his way. “And I’ve had ice cream for supper and liked it.”

“Small town, USA.”

“Yes.”

“You look....” He studied her face, her eyes, her stature. “More peaceful.”

“Meeting you is helping that.” She reached a hand to his again. “I felt so guilty that I let us down that night.”

“But—”

“No buts. I know you felt the same way, but my attention was split, I knew I’d had a bad weekend with James, and I was carrying a truckload of guilt and shame on my shoulders.”

“You could have talked to me,” Carl argued. He leaned in again. “Why didn’t you? Did you think I didn’t notice the way you favored that shoulder? The way you grimaced when you stood, like everything was sore? The headaches? James is smart enough to stay away from the face, to keep the bruising unseen, but there’s more to an abusive relationship than physical pain.”

“Although that’s a
party in and of itself,” Cress retorted. She frowned, pursed her lips, and shook her head. “You’d told me so often to break it off, to walk away. I was embarrassed because I didn’t listen. I thought you’d be ashamed of me, of my choices. How stupid they were.”

“Cress.” Carl
scowled. “I was never ashamed of you. I could see James for what he was, but it’s different from my perspective because I’m a guy. And he was my commanding officer as well, so that put us in a bad spot. That wasn’t your fault, or mine. The blame lay on James.”

“
I knew better.”

“
Should
have known better,” he corrected her. “But sometimes things creep up on us and James is good at what he does. You know you weren’t the first, don’t you?”

That question jerked her
awareness higher. “No.”

Carl nodded, grim. “When he was a street cop on the west
side his girlfriend swore out a complaint about him. I didn’t hear about this until you’d gone on leave, but I figured someone would have flagged you. Anyway, he was sent for psychological counseling, did his stint with their therapist, came through with flying colors and then scrambled up the chain of command where little things like beating a woman get tucked beneath desk calendars, especially when Daddy retired with honors and a captain’s badge a few years before.”

Not the first…

That made things worse, the thought that not only didn’t she defend herself properly, she stepped into the relationship with eyes wide open, not sensing James’ history, his power quest. And then to never report it, never take it through the steps of the judicial system. Did that make her a bad cop? An accomplice? Or just another stupid woman willing to get beat up?

“
No one was supposed to know about his other offense,” Carl offered, trying to reassure her. “They buried it deep because of his father and his age. Young men make stupid mistakes and all that crap.”

That didn’t make her carelessness any smarter.
“I’m not looking for excuses, Carl. I knew better and I paid the price, but it’s behind me now.”

“Is it?” His look said he hoped that was true.

Cress thought and nodded. “In most respects. Coming here, seeing you, saying I’m sorry for that night.” She sighed and shrugged. “I needed this.”

“Me too.” Carl angled his head, questioning. “So. What now? What’s the plan?”

Ah. The question of the hour. Cress smiled and shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I know I’m not coming back. I knew it the minute I saw you were okay. I need a fresh start. A new force. A clean bill.”

“You apply yet?”

“No.” Lips pursed, she eyed a gull as it soared, the winds keeping the bird aloft with little visible effort. “But I’ve got time. I have to pack up my stuff here, release my apartment, file my resignation and all that, but I’ve made the decision. And it’s all good.”

He grinned, patted her hand, then
rose when his phone interrupted them. “Crap, Cress, sorry. I’ve got to go. Something’s going down unexpected. You’ll be okay here until lover boy shows up in half an hour?”

She nodded, serene. “I’m fine. Maybe I’ll take a walk along the lake. Skim some rocks. Dance in the rain.”

Carl gave her a brief hug and headed to his car at a quick clip. “Keep in touch. And I expect an invite to the wedding.”

Heat
infused her neck, her cheeks, but she refused to deny his assumption. “You’re at the top of the list. Maybe you could be maid of honor.”

“Only if I get to pick the dress,” he shot back. He spun the car into a quick arc and took off, going too fast for the narrow park roads, the emergency call pushing for speed.

Cress watched until his car curved out of sight, then walked toward the lake’s edge, the quiet strip a restful reprieve in the heart of a big city. Hands in her pockets, she walked slowly, her thoughts less scrambled.

She’d made a decision. A good one, she hoped. Was it risky to shelve her ties to the city, to the force, and leap into life in Watkins Ridge with no assurances of a future with
Alex? Or a job?

She’d take it day by day. That seemed to be working so far
. The clouds reached the sun’s edge, cool shadows tipping her way, making her wish she’d grabbed a heavier fleece from the car. She hadn’t though, and walking would keep her warmer than sitting. Chin down, she curved the lake’s edge, hands in her pockets, glimmers of plans and dreams warming her from within.