“To help me see what he needed to do and why,” she said, “He mentioned my daughter. And Michelle overheard and asked me who Emma was.” Her chin started to tremble, and Deirdre sucked in a tight breath. Then another, and another. “I didn’t know what to say.”
Charlotte and Shannon exchanged a glance, and Lisa’s eyes widened. “What did you tell her?” Lisa asked.
“Nothing,” Deirdre said. “You came over and saved me.”
Lisa gave her a sympathetic smile and moved to hug her.
“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Meg said, and Deirdre looked at her as Lisa backed up.
“Neither did I,” Charlotte said.
“Only Lisa knows,” Deirdre said. She ducked her head and studied her hands. “And even she doesn’t know the whole story.”
The very room itself held its breath, waiting for Deirdre to continue.
“My daughter is fifteen,” Deirdre said, deciding to go with the surface level stuff. “She lives with my ex-husband on the North Shore. I came here after a judge granted her a protective order against me. I haven’t spoken to her in almost nineteen months.”
She looked up then, the surprise, shock, and horror on the women’s faces in the room not hard to find. Her stomach tightened and rioted, and Deirdre needed to get out of this room. She just had one more thing to say.
“It’s a civil matter,” she said. “I’m not a criminal. But I can’t talk to my daughter, and Wyatt basically just threw it in my face.” She got up, her feet feeling like someone had encased them in cement. They tingled, and she looked down at the floor.
“What are you going to do?” Lisa asked.
“Do?” Deirdre asked. “I’m going to go get to work on what we decided in that meeting. Michelle is a great girl, but she’s got opinions, and she wants the perfect wedding. I want to give her the perfect wedding.”
With that, Deirdre left the four of them in Charlotte’s office. Let them talk. Speculate. Whatever they wanted. She didn’t owe them more than what she’d told them, and she had a ton of work to do.
Back in her own office, she closed and locked the door, switched off the lights, and sat heavily in her desk chair. She didn’t mean to shut everyone out of her life. It was just easier that way.
She’d been doing so great in Getaway Bay too. She’d been making friends here at work. Maybe it took longer for her to really trust and open up to other women, but she’d been doing it. She’d been seeing Wyatt for just over six weeks, and that topped their last try at a relationship. Why had he said that?
Her phone chimed, and she looked at it out of instinct when she really wanted to ignore it.
Meg’s name flashed across the top of the screen, and Deirdre flipped her phone over. The notifications just kept coming, and she hurried to silence the phone and then put it face-down. Then, finally, she could breathe. She could work. She had peace.
Deirdre had just finished a pint of lemon sorbet—the only thing she’d had in her freezer—when someone knocked on her front door. She froze with the spoon in mid-air, knowing that knock.
Wyatt may have called or texted—or both—at some point that day. Deirdre didn’t know. She’d turned her phone off before leaving the office, and it currently sat in her bedroom, plugged in on the nightstand.
“Deirdre?” he called, and that unlocked the trance she’d fallen into. She bolted to her feet and went straight to the door, not bothering to take the sorbet container into the kitchen.
Her heart thrashed in her chest, and she wanted to tell Wyatt to go away. But they were adults, and adults didn’t shout through closed doors if they wanted to solve a problem. So she unlatched the chain and twisted the lock to open the door.
Their eyes met, and Deirdre’s anger grew with every second he remained silent. After what felt like a long time, she asked, “You came to my house. Was there something you needed?”
He blinked and cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said. “I realize I made a mistake today, and I wanted to apologize.” His eyes dropped to the empty sorbet container, and Deirdre had the sudden urge to hide it behind her back.
She did, embarrassment coiling through her. It didn’t play well with the anger, but Deirdre didn’t know what to do with anything she was feeling.
“No one’s heard from you,” he said.
“Who have you been talking to?” she demanded. She didn’t need her friends gossiping behind her back.
He looked puzzled, his eyes darkening. “Just Norma,” he said. “In a desperate attempt to get you on the phone, I had her call you, thinking you’d answer a call from a client.”
Thunder rolled through the sky overhead, and Wyatt looked up.
“You better come in,” Deirdre said. “And all the kids better start praying that storm blows over before tomorrow.”
“And all my officers,” Wyatt said darkly, coming into her house.
She took the empty carton into the kitchen and threw it away, putting the island and couch between her and Wyatt.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“You’ve said that,” she said. “What I want to know is what you’re sorry for.” She folded her arms, because it was barely seven o’clock and she’d been in her pajamas since the moment she’d gotten home from work.
Wyatt still wore his uniform, and he looked one breath away from passing out. “Running out on you today,” he said, and Deirdre shook her head. “And mentioning Emma.” He hung his head. “I realize I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No,” Deirdre bit out. “You shouldn’t have.” She drew in a deep breath, about to let him have it. “You realize that only two people in this entire town know about Emma? You and Lisa Ashford. Lewiston. Whatever.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Two people, Wyatt. Two. And because of you, I had to tell all the girls at work, and they all looked at me like I’m some kind of monster.” Her chest heaved and she felt wild and reckless. “What you did is not fair.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, lifting his eyes to hers. “But Deirdre, you don’t need to be embarrassed about this.”
“Don’t tell me how to feel.”
“You need to trust people more,” he said, clearly angry too. “Last time we dated, you accused me of not being ready. Of not being willing to open up. Deirdre, that’s you. With everyone.” He drew in a deep breath and shook his head. “I didn’t come here to argue.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I came to apologize and make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped.
Wyatt held her gaze, and his was so intense and so deep that Deirdre looked away after only a few seconds. No wonder he was a very good police officer. A look like that could draw a confession out of anyone.
The tension in the air choked her, and she hated feeling like this. She’d had enough of the stress unsettling her stomach. Enough of the worry gnawing at her nerves night and day.
“Deirdre,” Wyatt said quietly, and she lost the battle against the tears. They burned in her eyes, and she swiped at her right one quickly.
“I’m fine,” she said again, much softer now. “Thank you for checking on me.”
“Are we still on for Bora Bora’s tomorrow night? I have a reservation.”
“Yes,” she said.
“All right.” Wyatt took a breath and pushed the air out of his mouth loudly. He came toward her, and Deirdre looked up at him for a split second before he gathered her into his arms. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“I know.” She clung to him, because it was nice to not have to be so strong, so stoic, all the time. She needed someone she could be vulnerable with, and maybe—just maybe—he was right. She didn’t open up to very many people, and she needed a shoulder to cry on sometimes. Everyone did, didn’t they?
He pressed his lips to her forehead and held her tight. “Okay, well, I’m beat, and my neighbor has called me twice about my dog. I better go.”
“Thanks for stopping by.” Deirdre walked
him to the door and held it while he went out onto her porch. He turned back and lifted his hand in a wave before going down the few steps to his cruiser.
She watched him back out and drive down the lane with palms and banyans swaying in the wind all around her. Then she shut the storm out, wishing the one inside her heart would blow itself out by morning too.
But Deirdre knew better than most that wishing something to be true almost never made it so, and she sighed as she went back to the couch and collapsed onto it. “Sure wish I had more lemon sorbet,” she murmured. But she didn’t, and no amount of wishing would make some appear, just like wishing for Emma to talk to her had never happened.
Chapter Fifteen
Wyatt stood outside the interrogation room while Noel and Tom spoke with Stephen Villalobos, the man who’d been driving the car when it went into the building. This was the third interview in as many days, and Wyatt was weary of the man’s lies.
Tom and Noel had run down one of the people Villalobos had identified yesterday, and the two stories didn’t match up. Wyatt just needed Villalobos to confess.
“Mister Villalobos,” Noel said, unbuttoning his jacket as he sat down. “We talked to the owner at the diner on Palm. He said you were there with Bella. Several times.” Tom sat too, slower, and with his eyes never leaving the suspect’s.
“Tell us what happened with her,” Tom said.
“I’ve told you already,” Stephen said. “We were just friends.”
“Why’d you drive into the building?”
“There was a dog, and I swerved to miss it, and after that, the car just went crazy.”
He’d been saying that since the beginning, though no one had seen a dog at the scene. Wyatt also needed the report back on the vehicle to see if something had been sabotaged or wrong with the car while Stephen was driving it. He couldn’t imagine that to be the case, but he wasn’t one to make conclusions without facts. Even then, he liked to think through every scenario. There was nothing more dangerous than thinking he knew the answer to something without doing the work.
The interview continued, but it wasn’t anything new. Wyatt retreated to the back wall and leaned against it, keeping one ear on the conversation but really, his mind had moved on to another problem.
Deirdre.
And he hated categorizing her as a problem. He was the one that had blown things up between them, but she was the one who wasn’t ready this time. She’d all but admitted it a couple of nights ago when he’d stopped by her house.
They’d gone to Bora Bora’s last night, but the tension between them had been sky-high, and Wyatt hadn’t known how to break it. He had no plans to see her that evening, and neither of them had texted that day either.
Wyatt had been trying to think of something they could talk about. Something to bring them together again. He picked up his phone and tapped a few times to get to their text string.
He had something he could tell her, but he didn’t want to do it over text. He liked the ease of modern technology, and how it made detective work easier, opened up new avenues for cold cases, and made communication faster.
But he thought it also made things less personal. And Wyatt wanted personal with Deirdre.
Lunch today?
He sent the text before he could change his mind.
The door to the interrogation room opened, and Tom and Noel came out. “Sorry, Chief,” Noel said.
“Lawyer?” Wyatt asked.
“Yep.” Tom nodded as he went past.
“Let’s keep him as long as we can,” Wyatt said. “Does he have a name for us?”
“Nope.” Noel handed him the case file, but Wyatt didn’t open it. The detective secretary would call for a public defender, and they could take hours to show up. Maybe Mr. Villalobos would feel like talking then.
Wyatt went back to his office, catching sight of Norma arranging a new vase of flowers on her desk. “Who’s that from?” he asked. “Rick?”
“That’s right.” His secretary beamed at him. “It’s our anniversary next week.”
“So he started early.”
“He’ll do something every day this month,” Norma said. “It’s our anniversary month.” She finished with the last lily and sat down. “The Harrison kid was found,” she said. “The mother called in a few minutes ago.”
“Good news,” Wyatt said. He’d survived Halloween with only two missing children reports, and they were both accounted for now. And there hadn’t been any incidents during the parade, and he had officers out all over the bays to make sure yards and streets were clean or getting cleaned up.
Wyatt hated Halloween, and he went into his office and closed the door. He didn’t like how every little stressor at work bothered him when he wasn’t happy in his personal life. The past several weeks with Deirdre had made the job easier, that was for sure, and he practically lunged for his phone when it chimed.
Sure, Deirdre had said. And I need to meet with Norma this afternoon, so you could give me a ride.
Sounds good. Wyatt leaned back in his chair, satisfied that they’d had a normal conversation. He managed to get some work done, emails answered, and new cases assigned before he left for lunch.
Deirdre had already arrived at Mama Chu’s when Wyatt got there, and he leaned down and kissed her quickly as he joined her at the table. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “It’s great to see you.”
She didn’t seem as withdrawn today as she had yesterday, and Wyatt was counting that as a win. “You too.”
“My mother asked about Thanksgiving again,” he said, picking up the menu. “What do you think?” He’d asked her to go to Thanksgiving dinner with him, at his mother’s place. His two siblings would be there too, and she wanted to have a full house. Since Christine’s death, Wyatt had been spending all major holidays with his mother, and he wasn’t sure what to tell her. Deirdre didn’t have any family she could visit, and he’d invited her to spend the holidays with his.
Deirdre had said she wanted to think about it, and that was before what had happened at Your Tidal Forever a couple of days ago.
“Yeah,” Deirdre said, giving him a smile. “We can go.”
Relief spread through Wyatt, but he didn’t feel quite out of the woods yet. “Great.” He looked up as the waitress approached. They put in their orders, and Wyatt looked at Deirdre again. “I have something I want to talk with you about.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” Wyatt studied the table for a moment. “I’m thinking about retiring.” He looked up, feeling a mixture of things. Selfish. Vulnerable. Like he could really use a friend.
“Wow, really?” Deirdre reached across the table and took one of his hands in both of hers. Wyatt further relaxed with her touch. Maybe they really were okay. “Do you not like your job?”
“I like it,” he said. “I’ve loved it. I just think it might be time.”
“And what are you going to do?” she asked. “You’re not even forty-five years old yet.”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Can you go back to being a detective? Do you have to be the Chief of Police?”
“I mean, people don’t usually go backward,” he said. “I don’t know. Maybe I just need a vacation. Maybe I’m fine.”
Deirdre cocked her head, studying him. He liked that she thought about things. That she didn’t just try to talk him out of it or accept what he said. “Maybe it’s something to think about,” she said. “Do you get a pension with the years you’ve put in?”
“Yes,” he said. “I have twenty-three with the state. I get a pension with that. And I can work somewhere else too, adding years as long as it’s within the state retirement system.”
“Like what?” She reached for her soda the moment the waitress set it on the table. Wyatt did too, taking his time as he unwrapped the straw and put it in his diet cola.
“Public school,” he said. “The state university. Prison system. Anything like that.”
“Priso
n system. Wow.” Deirdre looked at him with questions in her eyes.
“I don’t want to work in the prison system,” he said. “But maybe I could teach at the university or something. Criminal justice. Criminology. Law enforcement management. That type of thing.”
“Sounds like you have a lot of questions to ask someone,” she said.
“Yeah,” Wyatt said. “Anyway.” He blew out his breath. “What’s new with you? How’s your new bride?”
“Oh, she’s….” Deirdre laughed, and Wyatt felt even more tension bleed out of the air around them. “She’s excitable. She’s been saving for three years to hire us, and I sure hope I can give her what she’s dreamed of.” She glanced up as the food arrived, and their conversation lulled again.
“Excitable.” Wyatt chuckled and picked up his fork. “And what are you doing with Norma this afternoon?”
“Décor,” she said.
“Oh, boy,” Wyatt said. “Well, come see me if you have a minute.” He met her eye, and he had so much he wanted to say to her. “Okay?”
Deirdre smiled and ducked her head, and Wyatt thought they were going to be okay. “Okay.”
The weeks passed, and Norma got candy or jewelry or lunch or flowers every day in November, true to her word about her husband making it their anniversary month. Wyatt was tired just looking at all the gifts as they came in, and he couldn’t imagine planning something like that.
He and Deirdre seemed to be moving along, maybe at a slower pace than before, but things felt normal to Wyatt when they were together. She held his hand. She kissed him with the same passion as previously. They laughed together. They hiked though the weather was cooling and it rained sometimes.
Wyatt pulled up to her house on Thanksgiving Day morning, the sun shining though the air held a crispness now that it was almost December. He climbed the steps, but Deirdre came out before he could knock. She wore a dress that hung down to her knees and showed her legs, and Wyatt’s mouth went dry.
The Police Chief's Bride Page 10
