Between Love and Duty

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Duncan felt responsible for her, yes. He wanted her, too. She knew that.

  But he hadn’t gone shopping with her because he thought she needed a bodyguard, or because they’d made love. He’d done it because he believed she had needed him, and he was right.

  She didn’t know a single other man who would have willingly spent six hours shopping with a woman, waiting patiently while she tried on clothes and shoes, ferrying packages to the car, giving his opinion on which shirt looked better, all to be nice.

  Duncan had probably never given a woman flowers. Soft words weren’t his style. Had he ever in his life said “I love you” to anyone?

  Why hadn’t she seen that taking her shopping was better than the biggest box of chocolates or bouquet of red roses ever? That it was the kindest, most loving thing anyone had ever done for her?

  She turned her wet face into the pillow, knowing that she loved him and that maybe he had loved her, before she had misunderstood him so dreadfully, lashing out over and over. Because she was scared to have become so vulnerable to Duncan.

  Was she capable of that much trust? Even if he would forgive her?

  STAN’S AUTO REPAIR WAS a big place with four bays, a sparkling-clean front office complete with tidy waiting room, free coffee and pop machines, and what looked like a dozen employees all wearing dark blue coveralls. Duncan walked in feeling unaccustomedly self-conscious.

  A big man who looked Samoan, maybe, or Hawaiian, smiled at him from behind the desk. The name “Tupa” was embroidered on the breast of his coverall. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Hector Ortez.”

  Tupa’s gaze dropped briefly to Duncan’s waist, and he realized his suit coat hadn’t covered the badge he wore on his belt. Tupa’s face had hardened when he met Duncan’s eyes again.

  “He in trouble?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” Duncan managed a relaxed smile of his own. “His son Tito thinks someday he’ll kick my butt on a basketball court.”

  “Ah.” Friendlier again, Tupa said, “I’ll get him.”

  When Hector came through the door to the garage, his expression was stoic, closed. A cop, Tupa would have said. Whether it was Duncan or another officer didn’t matter; Hector had reason to distrust all of them.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked. Alarm flared on his face. “With Tito?”

  Duncan shook his head. He glanced to see that Tupa had discreetly withdrawn to a desk with a computer out of earshot. “I was actually, uh, wondering if you take a long enough lunch break that we could talk.”

  Hector stared at him.

  “I’d like to tell you where I’m coming from.” He cleared his throat. “Why I worry about Tito.”

  He wouldn’t have been surprised to be rebuffed, but after a minute Hector nodded. “I have half an hour. I could take it right now.”

  There was a panel truck parked by a gas station a block away that served great Mexican food out the side that rolled up. Hector suggested it, and Duncan nodded. He grabbed a burrito or a quesadilla there regularly.

  Once they had their food, they sat at one of several plastic tables set up beneath an awning stretching out from the other side of the truck.

  Duncan opened the bottle of lemonade he’d bought, took a long drink and began talking. He told Hector about his own father, about having to take responsibility for his brothers and why. He admitted that Tito had reminded him of his youngest brother in particular, small for his age, desperately in need of direction. And then he told him about Jane’s problems.

  “You seemed angry enough at her, I had to wonder,” he said bluntly.

  “I am angry because of everything that has happened. I was defending myself and yet I went to prison. I have been stripped of everything. I thought at least I had my family. My children. I don’t understand why this judge wants to take them from me, too.”

  “I really don’t think he does. I spoke the truth yesterday. I believe you love Tito and can be a good father to him. None of us want to take Tito from you. I only fear your anger.” He hesitated. This was really what he’d come to say. “I think Tito does, too.”

  Hector drew away, clearly offended.

  “I ask only that you think about it,” Duncan said quietly. “Jane was right to yell at both of us. We were scaring Tito, and I think Lupe, too. You don’t want your son or daughter to be afraid of you.”

  Hector became quiet. Duncan let that silence lay for a while as he unwrapped his burrito. Finally he ventured, “His grades seem to be improving.”

  “He tells me that, now he is paying attention, the math is easy for him.” Hector shook his head. “It never was for me.”

  Duncan laughed. “I think Tito is a really smart kid. Persuading him to pay attention, to try, is the real trick.”

  The conversation went easier then. Hector confided his worries about Lupe and her children, Duncan told him how fierce Tito was talking about his former brother-in-law, Hector even asked what Duncan’s brothers now did. When Duncan told him they were cops, too, he nodded. “They do the same as you do because they admired you,” he said, as if it were a given.

  “Or because we all wanted to make up for our father’s crimes.”

  “But you say this Conall was only twelve the last time he saw his father.” Hector shook his head. “Only a boy. No, I think you are his father. You should be proud.”

  Taken aback, Duncan didn’t try to argue further. A few minutes later, they dropped their wrappings in the garbage can and walked back to Stan’s Auto Repair together. Duncan didn’t say again, “Please think,” but they parted amiably.

  He drove to the Public Safety Building aware of a peculiar sensation lodged under his breastbone. Hector, he admitted, had caught him by surprise.

  Duncan was proud of Niall and Conall. He’d had a grim sense of satisfaction at a duty performed when they both turned out okay. But it had never once occurred to him to feel proud because they’d chosen to become cops, too. Not in his wildest dreams had he believed either of his brothers admired him.

  Was it possible?

  I think you are his father. It occurred to Duncan how much he wished he could talk to Conall about it all. Maybe…have a beer with both his brothers. As a family.

  TITO WAS SURPRISED WHEN he came home to see his father sitting on the couch holding baby Felicia while Yolanda and Mateo clutched at him and chattered. Good smells came from the kitchen.

  Tito hesitated, his eyes flicking this way and that. If Jane was here, she must be in the kitchen. Or had Papa decided he no longer needed to listen to her?

  But his father smiled at him and said, “Don’t look so worried. I called Jane today and asked if I could come here in the evenings, if I promised to be here only when Lupe is also.”

  Surprised, Tito nodded. He silently stowed his basketball in the small closet and then went to the bathroom.

  Papa wouldn’t lie, would he? Churning inside, Tito wondered. He couldn’t betray his father, no matter what; he already knew that. Family was family. He didn’t think Duncan would want to see him anymore, though, and that hurt.

  Through the door, he heard Lupe’s raised voice calling him. Although he wished he didn’t have to eat with the family, Tito went out to join Papa and the others at the table. Felicia usually cried during dinner, but cuddling with her abuelo must have put her in a good mood; she seemed happy lying in the playpen and gnawing on a cloth doll. Tito pulled out his chair and sat, head bowed, while Lupe asked for blessings.

  Lupe had made chili verde. There were warm, homemade corn tortillas, too. Tito ate hungrily, watching his father out of the corner of his eye.

  Papa had opened a Mexican beer, but he took only sips. When Mateo spilled his milk, Papa waved Lupe to stay and mopped up, then filled the glass halfway full again. He even put his hand on Mateo’s to help him lift it to his mouth.

  Not until the little ones were done eating and had left the table with Lupe’s permission did Papa say, “I’ve been thinking
.”

  Lupe and Tito looked at him.

  “Lupe, it’s okay if you say no. If you are happiest living here. But I think it must be hard for you, with so little help from Raul. What I was thinking—” he took a deep breath as if for courage “—is that perhaps we could rent a house big enough for all of us. One with a yard for the children. Some nights you wouldn’t have to pay for child care because I would be home. And perhaps Tito would help, too.”

  Tito felt a strange, warm rush of feeling. Papa did want to help his daughter. And Tito hadn’t wanted to leave Lupe alone, or not see the little ones very often. Mateo and he…they were tight. Boys needed a big brother to look up to, didn’t they?

  “I also want to tell you I’m sorry that I got so angry yesterday morning. That I scared you. I was wrong. It’s true that I should be glad other people are trying to do the right thing for you, Tito. I think I was jealous because Duncan—” he said the name awkwardly, as if it didn’t fit the shape of his mouth “—went to school so much longer than I did. He has money and is important. But…he could be a good friend for you, Tito, and I should be glad of that.”

  Should? The word caught Tito’s attention like a burr grabbed fabric. Did that mean Papa really wasn’t glad?

  Maybe, but at least he had admitted why. He’d come right out and said he was jealous. It took a brave man to admit that. Tito felt his eyes sting. He ducked his head. Men didn’t cry.

  Lupe was talking excitedly. A real house? With a yard? Perhaps the neighbor lady could come there, to their house, to babysit when Papa couldn’t and Lupe had to work. “Tito, what do you think?” she asked at last.

  He had overcome the desire to cry by then. He squared his shoulders and sat with pride. “I think it would be great if we could all live together. A family. I’d like that.”

  His father smiled, such a big smile Tito suddenly remembered the papa he’d loved when he was still a little boy and life was less complicated.

  “Duncan said he would like to keep spending time with you, if you want,” Papa said. “You like him, don’t you?”

  Tito swallowed. “He’s been nice to me. And I’m getting really good at basketball!” He eyed his father nervously. “He helped me with homework, too. Especially math.”

  “Ah.” Something flickered on his father’s face. Sadness, perhaps, but also acceptance. “I thought so.” He looked again at Lupe and then at Tito. “Well, then. No more movies this month, Tito, or hamburgers and pizza. I must save my money for the house so we can all be together. Okay?”

  Lupe glowed, looking more like herself. Younger.

  Tito grinned at him, pleasure bursting inside him. “Okay!”

  Papa might be short and not so good at basketball. He might not be able to answer every question the way Duncan could. But Tito felt so proud. His father had showed that he was a strong man. A big man, not a small one at all.

  And I can still be friends with Duncan, too.

  He was old enough to know that life wouldn’t always be so perfect. Old enough to know that his father would disappoint him again in the future, and that he would probably disappoint Papa, too. Still feeling warm inside, he grappled with the notion as he jumped up to help Lupe clear the table.

  Mistakes were okay, he finally thought in amazement. It was admitting them and doing better that made a man. The kind of man he, Tito, wanted to be.

  MIDMORNING, JANE TOOK a call from Niall who told her that Hector definitely was out of the running as her stalker. She thanked him and left a message for Judge Lehman, telling him that she wanted to continue supervising Tito’s visits with his father.

  Hector himself called her in the middle of the afternoon to ask her permission to have dinner with his family. He sounded…humble, she finally realized.

  “I’m ashamed of the way I acted yesterday,” he said. “I upset everyone. Tito wouldn’t even look at me afterward.” He hesitated. “I didn’t used to be angry all the time. I don’t like it.”

  Wow.

  “We all understand why you’ve been angry,” she said. “I’ve never told you this before, but I read the transcript of your trial. I think it was wrong that you were convicted. I believe you were only defending yourself.”

  “I was drunk,” he said simply. “Foolish drunk. To have gotten into an argument with someone like him was stupid. I never meant to kill him.”

  “I think Tito will figure that out.”

  “I don’t want him to think that’s how a man acts.”

  “Have dinner with your family tonight.” She was smiling despite her bleak mood. “In fact, why don’t we resume the original plan? You can have dinner there as long as Lupe is with you and Tito.”

  “Thank you.” His voice sounded thick.

  Only after hanging up did she start to wonder what had effected the sea change in him. What if he was playing her? Was he gloating, thinking, stupid woman? But, despite her qualms, she didn’t believe it. She thought he’d been sincere.

  Take off your rose-colored glasses, Duncan would say. Had said. Her answer was, Not happening. The greatest miracle in her life was that she could believe in people, and she intended to keep right on doing so.

  So why hadn’t she believed in Duncan?

  But she knew. Of course she knew. Having faith in people one step removed was way easier than when she was the one who might get hurt.

  Call him.

  She thought about it for the rest of the day. After closing, she went so far as to drive over to his house but saw no lights on inside. On a rush of guilty relief, she realized he might not be home for hours. Of course, she couldn’t sit out here waiting forever. Maybe it would be better after all if she phoned him. He might not actually want to see her. On a wash of misery, Jane admitted that she could hardly blame him if he didn’t.

  She went grocery shopping, loading up her cart until the total bill startled her. Too many comfort foods, but she refused to regret buying them. If she’d ever needed comfort, it was now.

  It was getting dark by the time she reached home. Jane eyed her house uneasily as she pulled into the driveway and waited for the garage door to lift. She’d feel better if she’d left more lights on. Especially the outside lights. She grabbed her cell phone from her purse and clutched it in her hand.

  It was still there when she drove into the garage even before the door was all the way up, then hit the button on the remote to reverse it. In the rearview mirror, she watched as it went down again, finally settling into place with a clunk and sigh.

  Okay. Tension trickled out of her and for a moment she leaned back and closed her eyes. She was securely locked in again. Time to pull herself together. Jane popped her trunk, grabbed her keys and purse and got out of the car, then remembered she’d left the cell phone on the seat and leaned in to get it. She dropped it in the loose pocket of her linen jacket.

  She was bent over the trunk, reaching for grocery sacks, when she heard a whisper of sound behind her. A footstep? A fireball of fear went off inside her and she tried to spin around. She bashed her head on the trunk lid, saw stars—and hard arms closed around her from behind. Something sharp pressed against her throat. A knife blade.

  “Did you expect me, bitch?” the man murmured in her ear.

  The grocery bags fell from her hands.

  DUNCAN DIDN’T LET HIMSELF express his restlessness in any physical mannerisms, even though he was bored out of his skull. A meeting regarding the regional drug enforcement task force that should have taken an hour had stretched to two and a half. The county sheriff was an elected position, which might explain why the current sheriff had risen beyond his level of competence. His main goal here seemed to be ensuring that the sheriff’s department got ample credit for any arrests even though Whatcom County, also involved, was a far larger agency. The several larger cities within the region had collectively provided as many officers to the task force as each of the counties had.

  Duncan caught a grimace on the face of one of the police chiefs, who then lo
oked embarrassed to be caught. But, damn, would somebody shut this guy up?

  The Whatcom County sheriff obliged by heaving himself to his feet. “Lowell, sorry to break this up, but I have business this evening. We’ve covered the main points, haven’t we?” His gaze traveled the room. There might have been a twinkle in his eyes at the multitude of vigorous nods. “Good,” he said. “I suspect we can clear anything else up by email. Great to see you all in person.”

  Chairs slid. Empty foam coffee cups hit the metal bottom of the trash can by the door. There wasn’t quite a jostle to escape the room, but close.

  Duncan didn’t hurry to his SUV. His house would be empty and dark. Jane’s, he thought, would probably be bright enough to be seen from a satellite. He didn’t like thinking about how scared she’d be. He kept hoping— unreasonably, he knew—that she’d call. Say, “I didn’t mean it.” Or was he supposed to do the apologizing?