Meredith wiggled her finger in Emilia’s direction. “How are you doing today?”
The kindness given through a look of complete sincerity was too much for Emilia to handle. She nearly crumpled when someone took the time to truly ask how she was.
Emilia lifted her chin and forced a smile. “Same old, same old.” She picked up her speed and ducked into the back room before Meredith called her out on the lie.
She and Meredith had attended church together, working as a team on special ministry projects. But it had been over a year since Emilia’s family walked through those doors. Roger’s change of personality was too shocking for people. Many seemed to think this was his true nature all along, that the brain injury gave him permission to express his frustration in public.
They were wrong.
The man Emilia had married was kind and soft-spoken. He cared more about others than himself. His faith was strong, and his devotion to the community, powerful. Roger had been a real-life superhero.
As a firefighter, Roger had been used to risking his life for others, and Emilia understood that devotion. Her career wasn’t much different. Yet the day of that final fire had started with an argument. It wasn’t anything important, only a disagreement about the negative influence of Tally’s best friend. By the time Emilia had arrived at work that day, she knew she’d been the one in the wrong, and she’d planned to tell him over dinner.
But there was no family dinner that night. There hadn’t been one that resembled those of their old life in thirteen months now. Rather, they continued to fly farther off course as Roger became more unfamiliar each day.
“There you are.” Bill Lineman strutted into the break room, still adjusting his belt. “Looks like you may be on swing for another week or so while Preston is out on baby-daddy leave.”
“Why me?” She braced for a fight. Working night shifts on three hours of sporadic sleep—at most—was killing her.
His eyebrows bobbed. “You wanted to be treated like everyone else, remember?” Lineman’s chest expanded, his posture rising as he looked down at Emilia.
“Of course I do. No problem.” She held her mouth tight, keeping the bitter retort locked behind her lips.
Lineman didn’t think a woman was qualified to be on the force, and he didn’t hide his opinion unless their sheriff, another woman, was within hearing distance.
“I’m getting sick of traffic duty anyway.” She turned her back to him before panic could make its way to her face.
Working into the night was torture with both Roger and Tally to care for. Sometimes Roger woke in the dark hours, raging for no reason. If only Emilia’s grandmother were still alive, everything would be different. Emilia would have someone to love her, to give her a pat on the back and a change of the guard.
This kind of life was too much for her to handle alone. She thought she could do it, for better or worse, but maybe sacrificing her daughter’s well-being was too high a price to pay.
Undersheriff Barkley walked into the room, dropped a file on the counter, and poured black coffee into a cup. “Hey, Cruz, I got your reports about the collision. Not sure if we have a case, though. I’m heading over to the hospital to question Kilbourn.”
Her pulse buzzed. “What do you mean, no case? The guy was drinking and taking prescription meds. A medication that, from what I gathered, he didn’t have a scrip for. Not to mention the woman he killed.” She crossed her arms against her chest. “Don’t you think the victim’s sons deserve some justice? Or is this one of those boys’ club things? Can’t make the award-winning coach take responsibility?”
Barkley turned and leaned back against the countertop. “I’m just messing with you. The doctor said Kilbourn’s out of the woods and I can talk with him. Come along with me, will you?” He chuckled. “Sometimes it’s too easy to get you fired up. You know I can’t resist that.”
Emilia scrubbed her hands over her face. She’d walked right into that one.
ADDISON APPROACHED CALEB’S hospital room, weaving her way past a tray of covered plates and a couple deep in discussion. The woman’s eyes were rimmed in red. That could have been Addison. She’d never again doubt how fortunate and blessed she was, even if life became a tangle of unwelcome details.
Today was taking care of itself, one moment at a time. Brianne had volunteered to stay with the kids, allowing Addison the time to visit Caleb and not have to worry about Caroline’s ability to keep them safe. Hannah and Connor were plenty old enough to be left alone, but Lilly was only six, and the farm had sprinkled more than a dose of fairy dust on her imagination.
Brianne’s kind offer both gave Addison freedom and tied her down. In the game of friendship, Addison was not likely to be picked first for a team. She hated owing anything to anyone enough to generally avoid the back-and-forth favors common among girlfriends.
She gripped the handle, took a deep breath, and eased the door open, careful not to disturb Caleb.
“Sir, as I said, you are not under arrest. We need to understand what happened the night of the accident so we can put all the pieces together.”
The voice hit Addison with the force of a hurricane. That deputy. Of course she’d come while Addison was away. Wasn’t there some kind of law about messing with an injured man? If there wasn’t, there should be, and maybe Addison would write one herself. She straightened every bone in her body, then walked into the room where her husband should be able to recover in peace.
Not a single eye glanced her way.
Addison cleared her throat at an impolite volume. A man in street clothes stood next to the deputy, a badge visible on his belt. “Deputy Cruz,” Addison said, “we are not interested in helping you with a bogus investigation. And like I said before, my husband rarely takes a drink and doesn’t touch prescription medication.”
Caleb’s chin shot forward. “What are you talking about? What kind of prescription?”
The plainclothes officer nudged Cruz toward the door. “You’ll have to take that up with your physician. We’ll get back to you soon.”
Addison pushed the door shut, nearly clipping Deputy Cruz on the heel before she turned back to her husband. “They certainly have a lot of nerve! Where do they get off questioning you when you’re barely out of surgery? I should file a formal report with the sheriff’s office and the hospital.” She marched to the window and crossed her arms. “That woman gets under my skin. I’d like to see what she’d do if she were on the other side of this mess.”
Caleb regarded her, a glint in his eye. “Looks like we’re actually alone. Come sit with me.”
Despite everything, a smile broke the surface. “This does not count as one of our twice-yearly dates. No way you’re getting off that easy.”
He extended his hand toward her. His face was a series of scrapes and bruises, but those eyes that had drawn her in on their first date still sparkled.
Addison took two steps, then slipped her fingers between his.
Already flowers and get-well balloons decorated every flat surface in Caleb’s room. The floral scent almost obscured the lingering smells of cleansers and hospital food. Almost.
“Snuggle up. We’ll watch the news and have Jell-O.” He winked.
“Dinner and a movie, huh?” Addison eased onto the bed, careful not to bump his leg, stomach, or head, knowing the visible wounds covered deeper injuries. She lay her head on the pillow next to his and turned up the volume on the television mounted to the wall.
“The Corban County sheriff’s office has released the name of the fatality in last night’s head-on collision between Darlington and West Crow.” A picture of a middle-aged woman with soft brunette curls popped onto the screen. “Georgianna Lynn Bosch, forty-two, was a hospice nurse and single mother of three sons. A GoFundMe campaign has been started to help care for her boys.” Addison’s heart hammered. Her throat constricted. Three boys without a mother. Where would they go?
Caleb’s hand trembled in hers. “Was that the same accident?
Did I kill someone?” He pulled away, cringing at the pain.
“Don’t say that.” Addison sat up and trained her eyes on her husband’s banged-up face. “This isn’t your fault. Accidents happen all the time.”
“Then, why did the police come to question me? That doesn’t always happen, does it?” His words shot out, anger mixing with hurt.
Addison bit her cheek. “I have no idea, but we’ll find out.”
“I need to know what happened.” He grabbed the hem of her shirt and squeezed the fabric.
Addison took a step back, untangling herself from his hold.
“Which side of the road did the collision happen on?”
“I don’t know that, either. Honestly, Caleb, all I know is that you’re alive, and I’m very grateful for that.” Fear invaded her body, adding a chill to her blood.
He pulled his hand out of her grip, leaving cold air to take its place, then pressed both palms over his eyes.
Shivers ran across Addison’s skin. Something horrible was coming. Like a sudden change in the weather, she could feel it, but how could she stop the storm before it crashed down on her family?
She searched for a way to ease into what had to be said, but she couldn’t find one. “Caleb, we need to get an attorney and do our talking through him.” She paced. “We can’t do this on our own. Have you started to remember anything from the accident?”
He shook his head, his face still covered.
“The doctor said you had alcohol and some kind of medication in your blood. Was that a mistake?” She cupped one hand over the other and brought them, thumbs together, to her mouth. What other things didn’t she know about her husband? If he couldn’t tell her where he’d been that night, then Jeff would have to fill in the missing hours.
Addison’s stomach pitched and swayed. Too much was missing. Too many details. Her skin continued to shiver while a fire raged inside her. The confidence she’d learned to feign was crumbling. When would she be able to move on and stand on her own strength?
“I don’t need a lawyer. I’ll face whatever the consequences are.” There was a hardness in his tone, one she’d never heard from him.
Addison dropped into the chair and stared at the clouded eyes that only resembled those of the man she’d married.
He turned his face toward the door.
The heat in her took hold. “That’s just great. Be the martyr. But you have three children at home. Don’t forget about them. You have to remember what happened, and you have to figure out how we’re going to move on from this, because I can’t be a single mom.”
“Georgianna didn’t get to put up a fight. What about her three kids? Who’s going to take care of them?” He clawed at the blanket draped across his lap. “I can’t live like this. It would have been better for me to have died there too.”
“How dare you say that? Are you going to look Lilly in the eye and tell her you’d rather not be alive to see her grow up? Are you going to tell Connor being his dad isn’t enough for you? What about Hannah? Can you imagine what would happen to her if we lost you? She’d disappear inside herself. How can you wish that on your family?”
“I don’t.” The words were nearly a whisper. “I don’t want that, but how can I live with this?”
“I don’t know.” Her heart hammered, but she kept her face neutral. She couldn’t think about the woman who’d died or the children she’d left behind, because giving them even a tiny thought would break Addison’s heart. She didn’t have the luxury of feelings right now when she had to keep her family together. “I have to get back to your mom’s house. Brianne is watching the kids again. I may need to bring our children with me next time I come see you. And your mother wants to come as well.” She stood, leaning close. “You’re going to have to hold it together for their sakes. Do you understand?”
Caleb’s head nodded. “Maybe you should wait another day before coming again.” His face twisted in an agony that seemed unrelated to his physical pain. “They don’t need to see me like this.”
Cold washed over her face. She was being dismissed by the only person who’d never done that to her. Was he trying to hide something?
EMILIA WAITED OUTSIDE the sheriff’s office door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. This was the time and the place to make her request, but another letdown was sure to follow.
The door swung open. “Emilia, come on in.” Sheriff Commons, a woman only a few years older than Emilia and in far better shape, scooted around her desk and took a seat on her high-backed desk chair. Behind her, the taupe wall was lined with pictures, diplomas, and awards. Sheriff Commons could work in any county, but she chose to stay here, where her roots were. It was an act Emilia could respect. “What did you want to talk about?”
Sweat tickled Emilia’s head where her ponytail had been bound too tight. “Ma’am, I feel I’ve been a solid team player on the force. I work the night shifts when asked. I always stay late, and my paperwork is thorough.”
“That’s true.” The sheriff nodded and leaned back.
“I’d like to take point on the Kilbourn case. I was the first on the scene, and I think I understand it better than anyone. I’ve passed the detective test, and I’ve been waiting patiently for an opportunity like this. I’m not asking for a raise, just a chance.”
“Emilia, don’t sell yourself short by negotiating before you know the answer.” She pulled open her top drawer. “I’m aware that you’re interested in moving up. You’ve been on my radar for some time. But I have one concern.”
The air seeped from Emilia’s lungs. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Will you be able to handle this case from a purely unemotional perspective?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t answer so easily. You’ve been through a lot this last year. Trials like the one your family has faced can put a bitter edge on how we see ourselves and others. And this case is sensitive. Potential charges could come down on a man who’s a community hero. Prosecuting the basketball coach and favorite high-school teacher will not make you a popular person. And that’s if you can convince the district attorney to go forward with charges.”
“I’m aware. But it’s my opinion that a person’s standing in the community should not determine culpability. Georgianna Bosch is dead. Her boys are without a mother. It’s not fair to them if we let this go because everyone likes Caleb Kilbourn.”
The sheriff’s mouth hinted at a smile. “All right. It’s yours. Report to me regularly. I want to know what you have before you go to the DA.”
Inside, Emilia itched to jump up and throw a fist in the air. This was her chance to prove herself. Finally, a break, and if she did well on this case, then she could request a raise based on merit. Investigations also meant no more patrolling during the night shift. And for once, Emilia would see the offender pay for his crimes, rather than hear later about the technicalities that let criminals back on the streets. Yes, Caleb Kilbourn would pay . . . unlike the mom who, thirteen months ago, had fallen asleep drunk and lit her house on fire with her own cigarette. She’d been rescued and so had her child. Both at the expense of Emilia’s husband and daughter.
9
Brianne’s camera hung from the strap around her neck. With spring moving into summer, the last couple of months had given her so much to photograph. Flowers were the best subjects she’d found for photo fusion. Caroline’s yard should have kept her clicking, but thoughts of Amanda dulled the colors.
How many times would she tell herself that Amanda had been wrong? Children didn’t lie about molestation. How would she have even known how to make up something like that?
A squeal brought Brianne back to the present. Lilly had the sprinkler turned all the way up. She and Chester were running through the spray of water reflecting the sun, a rainbow sparkling in the mist.
Brianne pointed her old camera’s one hundred–millimeter macro lens toward the action. She experimented, moving from side to side in a way that changed how the
sun filtered through a tall pine tree. The result of the rim lighting was a slight flare over Lilly’s profile and the glint of the rainbow ending in the mist. Brianne snapped a few more pictures, knowing she’d never capture the fullness of the moment.
Lilly caught sight of the camera and twirled and danced in the sparkling water, a smile stretching across her face as Chester bounded circles around his new best friend, his thick fur now flat and dripping.
Brianne stepped into the shade to examine the images she’d just shot. She scrolled through, deleting five or six that didn’t justify the time it would take to polish them.
She could hear a page flip from where Hannah lay in the hammock, hung between two black walnut trees, but Hannah didn’t look up or even acknowledge Brianne, who stood less than ten feet from her.
Slowly lifting the camera, Brianne took a few pictures of the beautiful teen, so lost in the story on the pages before her that she had no idea she was the perfect model.
If Brianne could bring out that lovely blush in Hannah’s cheeks, the hint of a smile she probably didn’t realize she had, and the depth of her ocean blue eyes, maybe she could get Hannah to see herself the way Brianne saw her, without the insecurities that inflated imperfections.
Hannah turned the last page, then laid the still-open book on her chest as she gazed up through the leaves.
When was the last time Brianne had been that content? Probably a year ago. She’d been seeing a nice guy, attending a weekly Bible study, and cherishing her job. Then Amanda died. Jaxon was suddenly not the man of her dreams. He’d probably never been that man, but she’d kept dating him in hopes of a deeper relationship.
She left her position a week after the funeral, and the Bible study about the same time. It was too hard to explain to the group of well-meaning women why she’d made what might look like a rash decision. For a single woman to walk away from a paycheck and try to support herself with meager art sales didn’t make sense to anyone, even Brianne. Especially when the electric bill arrived on the fifth of each month.
More Than We Remember Page 6
