She kept storming.
“Goddamn it, Cady,” he clipped, starting to follow her.
She whirled on him, her face no less pretty twisted in anger.
She then lifted a finger and shouted, “You no longer know me, Coert!”
He moved toward her, stopped, put his hands to his hips and growled low, “This is the same shit you’d pull without even a thought. Not a surprise you never grew up enough to grow outta it. So yeah. Fuck yeah. I know you, Cady.”
She lost it then, the shroud of a rich man’s wife she’d been wearing since he saw her again sliding away, but he saw it in her eyes, the emotion that she was hiding behind anger so she could deal.
And holding on to the anger, she yelled, “Kiss my ass!”
After delivering that, she whirled around so fast, her hair flew out behind her and she stomped away.
Coert stared after her, feeling a muscle tick in his cheek, wondering if there was any way he could have played that where it would have gone better, and doing that trying not to think of the emotion he saw behind her eyes before his Cady came back and told him to kiss her ass.
He then turned and prowled the other way.
It wasn’t a long walk to his office but he didn’t get back to it before he yanked out his phone, pulled her up, hit go and put it to his ear.
Surprisingly, she answered right away, saying only, “Coert.”
“Where are you?” he bit out.
“I’m sorry.”
That was another surprise, but he could tell the emotion he’d seen had taken over so he couldn’t dwell on it.
Now he had more concerning things to dwell on.
“Where are you?” he demanded, turning to the steps of the sheriff’s station and jogging up.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re in your car.”
“I’m not.”
She was in her car.
“And you’re crying,” he stated, pushing through the front doors.
“I’m not.”
She totally was crying.
“What’d I say about that?” he bit out, walking toward the stairs that would take him up to his office.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t want to talk and I promised no dramatics, and I forced you to talk and then made a scene on the sidewalk.”
Shit.
Shit.
Totally crying. Hardly keeping it together. Her voice was so rough it was hoarse.
“Cady—”
“You’re the sheriff. You can’t have some crazy woman making a scene on the sidewalk.”
“Damnit, Cady—”
“I promised and I broke my promise. Guess I’m good at that.”
At that, he stopped dead and turned his eyes to his boots.
“Cady,” he whispered.
“I get it and I shouldn’t have pushed it. It was . . . it was . . . it was cruel. All of it. All I’ve done coming back. It was cruel.”
“Listen to me,” he said urgently.
“You don’t have to talk to me. I won’t make you do that. I get it. I understand. I really do, Coert.”
“Please be quiet and listen to me,” he begged.
“No, that’s okay. Don’t worry. I get it and it’s done. I should have known. I shouldn’t have . . .”
She made a noise.
Coert made a noise too but his was a growl.
And she kept going.
“I shouldn’t have done this to us. I should have left well enough alone.”
He changed directions, going back where he came from, toward the front doors. “I need you to stop talking now, Cady. Pull off the road. And listen to me.”
“I’m going home.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”
“I mean Denver.”
Fuck!
“Cady, please, God, listen to me,” he said fast.
“I shouldn’t have come here. I’ve hurt you. You have a good life. You’re happy here with your adorable little girl and your job and your . . . your . . . well, your life, I guess.”
Now out of the station, he pulled his keys from the pocket of his jeans and beeped the locks on his cruiser.
“I’m coming to you,” he told her.
“You don’t have to. I’m good.”
She wasn’t good.
Fuck, she sounded like she was being strangled.
“Cady—”
“I’ll leave and you can get back to your life.”
“Ca—”
“I just want you to know, Coert, really, not to make you hurt, or not to make it worse and not to cause any harm, but you should know, it’s really important you know, whatever happened after, I loved you. I really did love you. And I know that because I still do.”
His throat closed.
He thought he heard a disconnect.
“Cady, goddamn it!” he shouted after he’d angled up into his truck.
But he said it to dead air.
She was gone.
He started the truck, checked, backed out when it was clear and only called her back when he was on the road.
She didn’t answer.
He considered putting on his police lights but that was highly, and in that moment frustratingly unethical, so he didn’t.
But he did drive like a bat out of hell.
There were no cars or trucks inside the fence or out of it when he got to the lighthouse, which meant construction was done on her property, which meant they’d be alone.
That was good.
What was bad was that after he got through the gate and drove up, got out and approached the house, there was no sound of barking coming from inside the house.
He moved to the window at the kitchen facing the sea and looked in.
No Cady, no Midnight, no movement.
He walked to the garage and looked in the side window.
No Jag.
She’d made it home, got her dog and took off.
Fuck.
He pulled out his phone, called her, got voicemail and left a message.
“You get this, you call me and you tell me where you are, Cady.”
Coert then went back to his office.
He did his best to keep his mind on work.
His best failed so he went through the motions.
And when it was time, he went to go get his girl from preschool.
They had dinner.
They cleaned up.
They snuggled in front of the TV.
He read her to sleep.
He left her with Shnookie in her bed with her nightlight on.
And he went downstairs and called Cady.
She didn’t pick up.
He felt his stomach sink.
But his mouth moved.
“Call me,” he growled into the phone.
And then he hung up.
The next morning after dropping Janie off at preschool, hearing nothing from Cady, Coert drove back out to the lighthouse.
When he did, he saw what he wasn’t in the state to see the day before.
A long, wide path of snow had been cleared from gate to garage, all along the front of the garage with narrow paths around the lighthouse.
No shovel did that, unless she spent six hours doing it. She had to at least have a mower with a snow plow.
A good one.
He also saw Cady decorated for Christmas.
But as he drove up to the gate, he wondered how she managed it.
There were large, evergreen wreaths on each side of the double gate and heavy evergreen boughs draping along six sections of the fence on either side. More boughs scalloped all around the circumference of the lighthouse, about eight feet up the sides, with even more swathed around the lighthouse door, along the covered walk between the garage and house, and around the garage. She also had wreaths on the house door he could see with big ones like the ones on the gates on the garage doors. The finishing touch was potted spiral pines on either side of the house doors with bigger ones on either side of the garage.
&
nbsp; He suspected they were all lit at night and when they were, that would be a show of festive cheer that was classy as all hell. In fact, it was classy as all hell now.
These were distracted thoughts, mostly centered around wondering how she’d managed to do all that by herself, thoughts that were an effort not to think of what lie ahead in talking to her.
Coert stopped outside the gate, got out and moved to the keypad.
He saw he was right. The boughs and wreaths were lit.
And when they were, they were sure to be a showstopper.
He had two digits punched in the keypad when he sensed movement, so he took two steps back to look through the iron bars in a gate that dipped low in the middle.
He didn’t see Cady.
He saw a large man jogging his way. Young, in his twenties, he was Coert’s height but probably had thirty to forty pounds on him, some of this muscle and broadness of shoulders, some of it at his gut.
“Hey!” the guy shouted, still jogging toward him.
Coert looked to the house. He didn’t see any trucks or machinery but maybe the renovation wasn’t done.
“I’m here to see Ms. Moreland,” he told the guy.
“No you’re not.”
Coert’s back snapped straight.
“Pardon?” he asked when the man stopped on the other side of the gate.
The guy looked to his sheriff jacket, to him, but stood solid at the dip in the gate. “Sorry, don’t want any trouble, but gotta say, no you’re not.”
“Can I ask who you are?” Coert queried.
“Last night, the basket case Cady was and hearin’ your name when she talked to her sister on the phone, knowin’ you were the cause of it, feel like sayin’ no. You can’t ask. But seein’ as I gotta make some things clear to you, I’ll tell you I’m Elijah. I rent the apartment over the garage. And I’m Cady’s friend.”
There were things there that hit Coert hard but he focused on only one.
“Cady doesn’t have a sister.”
Elijah’s face screwed up before he replied, “See you didn’t get to know her real good when whatever went down between you two went down since she doesn’t only have a sister, she’s got three.”
Three?
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Dude . . . I mean, Sheriff, she does. I know ’em. I’ve met ’em. Okay, I did that over Skype but it still counts.”
This was interesting, all of it, primarily this guy being close enough to Cady to Skype with her “sisters.”
It was also a waste of time.
“I need to see Cady,” he stated.
“That might be true but she doesn’t need to see you,” Elijah retorted.
Coert opened his mouth but Elijah kept talking.
“Doesn’t matter anyway. She took off this morning to go down to Connecticut. The family is spending Christmas here, but she’s goin’ to meet her niece down there and her sister’s flyin’ out. They’re gonna do some girlie Christmas road trip on the way back up here to try and take Cady’s mind off whatever you did to her yesterday.”
Goddamn it.
“I don’t want trouble from you,” Elijah went on, “but seriously, Cady’s good people. She’s been, like, super cool with me. Actin’ like me hangin’ in her pimped-out studio was a lifesaver when it was me who needed a place to crash after my chick kicked me to the curb. Didn’t have the cabbage to put down a deposit anywhere, sleeping on my bud’s couch seriously sucked. I liked her, she liked me, when things got safe for her, she asked me to stay. That apartment might not be as pimp as the studio but it’s still the freakin’ bomb and she gives it to me for a song, sayin’ it’s worth it. I plow snow and help with Christmas stuff and in the summer I can mow her grass. She knows I’m gettin’ myself together after my girl tore me up and I needed a break. But it hits a guy where it hurts, feelin’ like he’s takin’ advantage of a little thing like that. She doesn’t make me feel like that. Still, it’s there and so I gotta give back where I can.”
He held Coert’s eyes as Coert stared in his, all of this knowledge sluicing through him in good ways and bad, and Elijah’s voice lowered when he continued.
“She was a mess last night, man. Like, Midnight was fah-reeked. I was too. Took forever for Kath to calm her down. And so, I don’t know why you’re here but I know from what I heard you’re not good for her, so if you give a shit about her, do me a solid, no . . . do Cady a solid and just vanish. Yeah?”
Coert’s voice had dipped too when he asked, “When’s she coming back?”
Elijah looked like he was starting to get ticked.
“Man, you are not listening to me.”
“I see you care about Cady and it’s a relief she’s had someone looking out for her, but even with that I still have to tell you this is none of your business.”
“Dude, you are not right ’cause it wasn’t you who had to stop her tossin’ stuff in her suitcase when she got home last night, doin’ that by clampin’ down on her, she was in such a state. And it wasn’t you who had to call Kath and tell her Cady was fallin’ apart. It was me. What was you is who did that to her.”
“There’s a lot happening here I suspect you don’t know,” Coert forced out.
“I got that,” Elijah bit back.
“I need to make sure she’s all right,” Coert made himself share.
“I see that might work for you but what you are not gettin’ is that’s not gonna work for her. Whatever it is, she’s convinced herself she’s the one done wrong and I don’t know what went down but I know Cady and I know that shit’s not right. But you got that twisted in her head and I’m not thinkin’ it’s good you got more chance to twist shit in her head.”
It was after he suffered those blows that it belatedly occurred to Coert that, as illuminating as this was, it was a waste of time.
Therefore he turned from Elijah, saying, “Good to meet you,” and walked to his truck.
“Man, you give even the littlest shit about her,” Elijah called as Coert opened the door on his truck, “you’ll let her family do their work.”
If he gave the littlest shit about her, he wouldn’t let her family anywhere near her.
He didn’t know who this sister was, but he was wondering even if Caylen continued to be estranged, maybe some unfortunate female had married him and it wouldn’t be a surprise Cady got close to her.
The two other sisters, he didn’t know and at that time, he didn’t care.
“Have a good holiday,” Coert called back, swung up into his truck and did a three-pointer in Cady’s lane to turn around and head back to town.
When he was on his way, he called her.
She didn’t pick up.
He left a message.
“Went to the lighthouse this morning and Elijah says you’re heading down to Connecticut. I get that. But I need to know you’re okay, Cady. You don’t have to call and talk to me but when you stop for a break, just text that you’re okay. Please, honey. Just text me you’re okay.”
He disconnected, shoved most of what Elijah said in the back of his mind and concentrated on the fact she’d be back.
The problem was, she’d be back and “the family” was spending Christmas with her.
He didn’t know if her mother or father (it would be the mother) got hold of Caylen and sorted him out, but he couldn’t imagine any visit from them, including and especially a holiday, would be good for Cady.
She’d want it.
They’d ruin it.
So now he needed to see her, really needed to see her when she got back.
For more than one reason.
Her text came half an hour after he sat down at his desk at the station.
I’m fine. Thank you for checking.
He didn’t hesitate to text back.
Call me when you get home.
His reply was immediate.
Her reply took fifteen minutes.
I appreciate your concern and you’re being very nice. But you d
on’t need to be concerned. I’ll be OK.
He didn’t make her wait fifteen minutes for his reply.
Please just phone when you get home. We need to talk.
Her reply came quicker that time, only a few minutes.
You’re off the hook, Coert. This is very sweet but truly, I’m taken care of. It’s done now for the both of us. Be happy and have a Merry Christmas.
His reply was again instant.
Just call when you get home.
And her reply that time was instant too.
Goodbye, Coert.
He returned, See you when you get back.
She didn’t respond.
Coert looked at the wall of his office, that beyond it was the lighthouse.
Not a word outta your mouth was anything but shit. We all got buried under it but she was fuckin’ it. You were good with that mouth in a lotta ways, I can tell. Bet you talked your shit real pretty to her. Gave it to her good with that mouth. The man she was so fuckin’ addicted to, she couldn’t tear her eyes off you anytime you were anywhere near.
He’d needed to take care of his daughter. He’d needed to sort things with her mother.
And he’d done that. Thanksgiving worked well. Janie didn’t seem to change but that didn’t mean she didn’t like having her mom and dad around, getting along. He knew she was feeling it, the way they were when they changed hands with Janie. Kim calling because that outlet was loose in her bathroom and she wanted him to come and tighten it up. And he did when he had Janie, bringing her back to her mom’s house. Doing that for her mom. Sitting down to dinner after.
Janie was still just Janie. Sweet. Cute. Smart. A good kid.
It had only been weeks. Maybe she wouldn’t change, turn into a terror because she knew her parents would still love her anyway, and he definitely wouldn’t mind that just as long as he knew the other stuff was how it needed to be for his little girl.
The bottom line of that was that it was important he and Kim were working on giving her better parents.
And it had only been weeks but he’d had time. He’d had time to face his past and the fact that Cady was in his present and find his way to deal with all that had happened.
He just couldn’t find it in himself to face it.
To face her.
So he’d screwed it up.
Royally.
Again.
She was a mess last night, man.
The Time in Between Page 25
