by Amanda Tru
“I think I love him,” she whispered. “I don’t think it would hurt so much if I didn’t.”
Something that sounded like, “You’re probably right,” or “I was totally right” rumbled into her ear as she pressed her cheek against his chest and inhaled the faintest traces of his Irish Spring soap.
“Kelsey?”
“Hmmm?”
Uncle Mel cleared his throat in that way he always did before giving her a bit of a reprimand. “Remember how that counselor said that the first true step to healing would be to forgive the dealer who gave Kenny the drugs?”
Heart sinking, Kelsey sighed. “Yeah. I know.”
“I didn’t push. I thought it was best left between you and the Lord. Then you stopped talking about it, so I allowed myself to believe you’d finally managed.” Gentle hands stroked her hair and soothed an ache she sometimes forgot she carried—for a while, anyway. “Well, now’s the time to do it. If you don’t, you’ll eventually drive Reid away. I don’t think you want to do that.”
“Do you really think—?”
But Uncle Mel didn’t let her finish. “You know it, girlie. Just be willing to let the Lord work the change in you. He can handle the rest without your help. Give Him this broken piece of your heart and watch the miracles He can do with it.”
“I know, but—”
“Willing, sweetheart. You just need to be willing.”
And the more he talked, the more her heart softened until words formed. Uncle Mel stopped mid-sentence, stood, and retrieved a guitar from the closet. “Let’s hear it.”
A few sour notes followed as she worked to get the instrument back in tune, but as she finished, the words tumbled forth, awkward, jumbled, discordant, but after a couple of rounds, she found a rhythm.
Teach me to trust and be willing,
The son who obeys.
Even when I’ve failed You
May I turn back to Your ways.
A heart yielded is all I must give.
So today I’m confessing.
For You alone, I live
And give thanks for this blessing…
Of You… only You…
Make me be willing…
And yielded to You…
The crackling of the wood in the fireplace, the ragged breath of the man she loved most in the world beside her, an occasional note plucked as she sat patient, waiting for the Lord to whisper His Word into her heart.
And then it came. A verse she’d never understood as a girl. “For this reason I say to you, her sins, which are many, have been forgiven, for she loved much, but he who is forgiven little, loves little.”
“I bet Reid thinks he’s been forgiven of a lot more sins than I have.”
Uncle Mel nodded. “Probably. We get that way about things.”
A sigh… first of discouragement and then of gratitude. “He’s wrong.”
The last two hours before leaving work had been difficult for months, but during the week after the floral fiasco it escalated to torture. Reid’s usual tricks of working slower to drag out every second—failed. He had all his work and part of Marco’s done before the night chef even arrived. And still, he waited. The scent of the Friday night prime rib roasting usually drove him crazy, but not that day. He stood there, wiping the prep table…again, just for something to do.
Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Reid stared at his boss, confused. “Ramon?”
“Can you come with me, please?”
Nothing about Ramon’s stance, his manner, his tone—nothing should have prompted the dread that washed over him. But as he stepped into Ramon’s office and saw Officers Crane and Tesdall standing there, he knew. Something had happened. And now I have to prove I didn’t do it.
The injustice of that idea tried to stir anger and defiance in him, but something Harv had said once fought back. “You’ll be the guilty one whenever anything happens. Don’t let that make you stupid. When you’ve done stupid things, that’s a consequence. Doing your time doesn’t take away consequences. It just means you’ve paid one of the debts. Just one. When you let yourself get worked up over suspicions, you make dumb mistakes. Don’t do it, or you’ll be back here with a longer sentence. Don’t ever want to see you on this side of the bars again.”
“Reid?”
He jerked his head up and met Ramon’s eyes. “Yeah?”
“Did you hear us? You zoned out there.”
A gesture told him to be seated. The desk that separated him and the officers from Ramon held nothing at all but a piece of paper and a plastic-wrapped packet. Reid’s heart sank with him as he dropped into the chair. “Where’d you get that?”
“Interesting question.”
Reid whipped his head around to look up at Officer Tesdall. “Why?”
“They found it in your locker, Reid.”
Cold, nauseating sweat soaked him in an instant. Unable to take his eyes off the packet, Reid shook his head like a dog out of water. “It’s gonna sound lame and all that, but it’s not mine. I’ve never seen it before.” There, he found the self-control to stop shaking and meet Ramon’s gaze. “I don’t know where that came from. I’d never disrespect you by bringing drugs in here. I’d never risk my program by going near the stuff again.” He ached to mention the Lord, Kelsey—how he wouldn’t ever risk his relationship with either of them for drugs. Ever. But Reid knew better.
“I know you wouldn’t, but they have to talk to you. As for me, I have to suspend you until the investigation is over. It’s in the contract with the program, or I wouldn’t.” The man looked ready to vomit. “I hope you understand.”
“Yeah. You gotta do it, or we’re both…” Reid closed his eyes and fought for control. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Ramon didn’t stop there. “You’ll get your salary, but if you are prosecuted for this, I have to demand that back. If you agree, read and then sign this.”
The paper slid across the desk before Reid could process Ramon’s words. A pen appeared. He read the words in a daze. Suspended with pay pending criminal charges. Fired and money to be returned in ninety days if prosecuted for the charge of possession of an illegal substance with intent to distribute. His head snapped up. “Are—?”
“If you agree to the terms, I suggest you sign it now. They need to take you in for questioning.”
But if I got it plead down to possession only, I wouldn’t lose my job. Wouldn’t have to pay it back. You could be out a lot… Understanding hit hard and fast. It ripped through his emotions until only the tiniest thread of self-control kept him from sobbing.
Reid stuck out his hand and met Ramon’s pointed stare. “Thanks for this—for all of this.”
“You didn’t do this. I know it. Now let them prove it.” Reid’s lack of confidence in the police’s commitment to proving him innocent must have shown because Ramon stood and came around the desk to give him a rather awkward hug. “These aren’t Rockland cops, Reid. They care about everyone in Fairbury—even you.”
They didn’t cuff him or flank him on either side as they escorted him outside. Tesdall gave Crane a questioning look, and she scanned the area. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
“Do what?” Reid did a visual sweep himself but saw nothing but a bunch of curious onlookers as they drove past. “What?”
“Why don’t you walk down to the station. We’ll see you in about five, okay?”
“What?” He stared, confused. “Why aren’t you taking me in?”
Officer Tesdall stepped a bit closer and dropped his voice a little. “Look. Right now, you’re just a person of interest we need to question. So, if you walk away from here without our escort, no one knows about it until necessary.”
“Can I take ten, then?” That he asked surprised even him, but Reid knew that if he passed The Prayer Room and Kelsey saw him, he’d have to explain.
This time, Officer Crane spoke up. “Go tell Kelsey about it. Sure.” Both Reid and Tesdall gave her quick looks. With an exasperated huff, sh
e threw up her hands. “This is Fairbury, guys. Everyone knows.”
The cruiser rolled out of the parking lot, but Reid stood there at the side, praying. Well, he thought it counted as praying, despite the words that refused to come. As he turned to head to the police station, a verse he’d read that morning in Jeremiah sprung to mind—a promise that the Lord would defend Israel. Will you defend me, too? Will you plead my cause? I don’t ask for revenge, just proof of my innocence.
Old movies with their scenes of men marching through dusty streets to be hanged played out in his mind to the tune from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Reid crossed the street and paused at The Pettler’s door. A step inside would only take a moment, and maybe Wayne should know.
Señora Rojas greeted him. “Oh! Reid. You are a good boy—stopping to get your querida a rose, maybe?”
He couldn’t have said no if he wanted to. Craning his neck to see through the narrow crack in the curtain that separated the shop from the workroom, Reid waited for the woman to choose the perfect rose. After all, it wasn’t like she’d let him make such a momentous decision himself! But Wayne’s back was to him. “I’ll just say hi to Wayne while you ring that up, okay?”
She whirled in a movement more expected of a dancer than a shop manager. “Is everything okay, Reid?”
“It will be. Just let me know—”
“You pay with your rent. I’ll have Wayne bring you a bill. Here. Take it.” She handed him one, long-stemmed rose. Too dark to be pink, too light to be red.
Aren’t there rules about colors? Red’s for true love or something? What’s pink? And is this like somewhere in between?
“Reid?” Wayne stood in the doorway, staring at him. “You’re off early…” The man’s face softened at the sight of the rose. “Good choice.”
No, Wayne. I didn’t get fired.
“Thank you. Now let him go—”
But Reid cut off Señora Rojas. “I’m on my way to the police station, Wayne. They found stuff in my locker.”
“What?” Wayne and Señora Rojas gave each other sharp glances before turning back to him. Wayne found is voice again first. “Yours?”
“No. But it looks bad—being in my locker, my record.” To his disgust, his voice cracked as Reid added, “And now I have to go tell Kelsey…”
But Wayne moved to his side, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and led him from the building. “Give the girl a chance. She cares about you. She’s not going to dump you over circumstantial evidence.”
If I was only that confident…
Still, Wayne’s reassurances did buoy his spirits as he hurried down to The Prayer Room. The gentle sounds of plucked strings greeted him as he entered, but Kelsey didn’t sing. She just sat there, eyes closed as random chords played as if of their own accord. Her eyes opened—a smile.
“Hey… you’re early.” Kelsey glanced down at his hand and back up at him. “Is that for me?”
The rose! Reid stepped forward and offered it. “I—”
“Thanks. It’s beautiful.” A kiss to his cheek—it stabbed like a dagger in his heart.
I’m going to break yours. He stood there, aching to take her hand, hold her, anything. But it seemed like a cheap shot to soften any defenses she might have before he ruined her day. “Um, there’s a problem.”
“If you’re breaking up with me already, my Uncle Mel’s going to have something not-very-nice to say to you.”
Teasing. She was so confident in him—trusted him enough that she didn’t think for a moment that he’d hurt her. And now he had to. “I can’t imagine ever breaking up with you, but you might…” He closed his eyes and swallowed the lump of pain that threatened to choke him. “They found stuff in my locker today—at work. It’s not mine, Kelsey. Even Ramon knows that. But he had to suspend me with pay until I’m cleared. I’m on my way to talk to the cops now.”
Her expression shifted from teasing to disbelieving. “Stuff?” Understanding dawned. “What? How—?” Kelsey clamped her mouth shut. “You’re innocent, but the police want to talk to you?”
“They have to, Kelsey. It was found in my locker.”
“And you’re suspended. Doesn’t that kill your place in the program?”
Reid shook his head. “No. Only if I get fired. I can get laid off without penalty, but not fired.” This time, he reached for her hand—took it. She didn’t squeeze back, but she didn’t pull away, either. “Ramon’s still paying me. He knows I’m innocent. Do you have any idea how good that makes me feel?” Do you have any idea how much I need you to be as confident?
But she only sighed. “I bet. Okay, well, come by when you’re done. I’ll stay through your time for you.”
So many words ached to be set free, but Reid just nodded and choked out a thanks. At the door, he turned and saw her staring at the rose. “I didn’t do this, Kelsey.”
She didn’t reply.
The interrogation room—small, but less institutional than the one he’d sat in eight years earlier. The faces of the officers—infinitely less intimidating. Officer Tesdall had disappeared, but an even younger man, Officer Granger, sat beside Officer Crane and eyed him with curiosity. Chief Varney stuck his head in the door. “Judith, I’ve got a lawyer on the way for him. Ramon called and said to make it happen.”
Officer Crane nodded. “Sure thing, Chief.” She turned to him. “Well, this could take a bit. Would you like something to drink? Water? I’ve got change for the machine if you’d rather have soda.”
“Can’t afford soda. Water would be nice.”
“I’ve got change—”
But Reid shook his head and tried to explain. “Can’t afford a dentist. So, I’m careful what I eat or drink until my six-month mark. Then I get dental and vision added to my benefits.” He didn’t add his next thought. But if you guys arrest me, I’ll get fired, and all the matching funding for my loan repayments disappears. I’ll be worse off than ever.
A pricking in his spirit shifted that idea. Okay, financially, I will be. I’m still better off, Lord. I know that. Thank you.
“Do you mind if we get some of the preliminary stuff down for the record to save time?” Officer Crane gave him a rather understanding smile. “Just name, age, address, workplace—stuff like that? We won’t ask any questions related to the case.”
“Sure.”
And it began. Name, date of birth, address, next of kin, employer, terms of his program. Reid felt an odd sense of déjà vu as he rehashed the same conversation he’d had with Kelsey a couple of nights prior. “I’m one of the pilot cases in the Freedom in Education program.” His heart sank at what his caseworker would think when she heard about it.
“And what does this program do?” Judith Crane nodded at a recorder on the table. “For the record.”
“Well, they take prisoners who demonstrate initiative and a desire to make a permanent change in their lives and guide them in career training. We even got a field trip to check out different types of businesses and career tracks to get a feel for what we wanted. When I watched a chef make this amazing sauce out of just a few ingredients, I knew. I wanted that.”
“So, they trained you to be a chef?” Officer Granger apologized for the interruption but asked one more question. “Did you get a certificate or…?”
Reid told about the online classes he took to fill the general education requirements for his AA degree. “Once I finished my sentence—that’s part of the program. No parole. They want you to be able to go where you need to for school and everything. Once I finished, I went to the Illinois Institute of Art in Chicago.”
“And how did you pay for that?”
Again, he launched into how the Freedom in Education program worked. From the sponsors who provide the money at low-interest rates, to the free housing provided by volunteers, to the other sponsors who match all repayments. “I graduated from there, two years after I got out of prison, with my AAS and thirty-thousand dollars in debt. If I am not fired from my job, they’ll match doll
ar for dollar. If I am, I have to pay back all of it myself.” He met Officer Crane’s gaze and held it. “As you can imagine, this is not a good scenario for me on that score, either.”
“So, you can become a chef for thirty thousand dollars?” Officer Granger whistled. “Seems cheap.”
“I got about fifteen thousand in grants, so more like forty-five if you don’t have to pay room and board. Still, it cost the state more for me to be in prison for three years than this cost me. They’re trying to get it so people can have early releases if they get in this program. Put the cost of their final year or two toward education instead of upkeep and free up prison space.”
He could see it—by the way they exchanged glances and the relaxing of their features, these cops were impressed. Good. Maybe I’ll get a chance.
The lawyer appeared, asked for a private consultation, spent ten minutes trying to convince Reid to confess now, and left when Reid fired him. He stuck his head out the door and called for Officer Crane. “Might as well come in. I trust you more than that guy.”
“Decided you were guilty?” She grabbed a fresh bottle of water as she passed a mini fridge and headed his way. “Yeah. It happens. Sorry.”
“When you blow it, you have to be ready for the consequences.” It hurt to say it, but Reid had found that it helped, too. “I blew it. Most people who do time go back. I have to prove myself again.”
And with that, the tone shifted. Officer Crane became focused—direct. “Okay, how did two grams of high-grade, supposedly, meth end up in your locker at The Coventry?”
“Wish I knew.”
Officer Granger eyed him. “Oh?”
“Figure of speech, Granger. Cut it out.” She turned back to Reid with her next question. “So, you deny that you purchased the meth and stored it in your locker at work?”
“I do. Any idiot who did that deserves what he gets. That’s probably five hundred in street value—at least. Bet it’s higher than it was eight years ago. Anyway, would you put a stack of twenties in your locker and leave it unlocked?”
The officer added a couple of lines to her notes as she added, “Yeah, we were wondering about it being unlocked. Why is that?”
