Her hair was cut short, boylike except for the bangs that swept to the left, and her eyes blinked as if exhausted, but she still looked like Erin. Her cheeks still glowed pink, like she’d just come in from a brisk run. He wondered if he looked like life had beaten him down.
“Not my fault,” Vance said, walking toward her. “If the cops in this city could get the traffic moving.”
Her smile turned into a wide grin and then a laugh. She approached him and pounded him on the back with a big hug. “Nice of you to come see me, loser.”
Vance stepped back. “Looking good.”
“You too. I’ll remember these as the pre-salami days.” She patted his belly and guided him toward the door of the restaurant. “Come on. I got us a spectacular seat. Not on the open deck, of course.”
Their table sat against a window with a perfect view of the lake. The Chicago skyline almost looked like it was rising right out of the water.
Vance pulled out her chair, and she sighed as she plopped into it. “You’ve always got that gentleman thing going, don’t you?”
“Most women appreciate that sort of thing, you know,” Vance said. “I know, I know. You’re not most women.”
“Got that right. I’ll never forget the time we were out eating and I ordered my steak rare. You couldn’t even watch me eat it.”
Vance smiled. “Yeah. It felt a little wimpy to order mine medium.”
“That was the same night we caught Earl Stormand.” She twisted the cloth napkin around her hand, then set it on her lap. “We’d been partners for what, three weeks?”
“Something like that.”
Erin stilled as she looked across the table at him. “I’m sorry. I can tell that bothers you. It was a long time ago. I didn’t realize it might, um . . .”
“I’m over it. Give me a break.”
“Good.” She grinned. “Because I still love telling the story about how I saved your—”
“I’m never going to live it down, am I?”
“Never! Now, let’s order some expensive food neither of us can afford.” She went on to joke about how she thought she might order a sandwich, in honor of him, and Vance played along with a wide smile. But trampling over any nostalgia were snapshots. Pieces, really. Fragments of the sniper’s havoc.
He tried to focus on Erin’s big-fish retelling of the day she saved his life. He’d been a cop for three years and had just been assigned a new partner, Erin Lester, when they got a call about a murder suspect they’d been hunting for a week, Earl Stormand.
They’d cornered him inside a warehouse, and Vance thought he caught a glimpse of him moving behind some crates. He followed what he believed to be Stormand’s shadow, but it was a cat, and at the very moment he realized it, Stormand slammed him against a concrete wall, a gun pointed to his head.
Like it was yesterday, he could still see Stormand’s face, blood red. Two veins in his forehead pulsing. Sweat shone on his skin, even in the dark. His eyes glowed with drug-induced rage, and the hand that held the gun at Vance hardly seemed steady enough to pull the trigger.
Lindy’s face flashed through Vance’s mind with such force that he thought she was there.
Then a loud pop, and Stormand collapsed, his head cracking against the concrete floor and the gun sliding away. Stormand hollered like a caged animal, and Vance could see the blood oozing from his leg. The bullet was so close he’d even heard the sound of crunching bone as it ripped through Stormand’s kneecap.
He dove for the gun as Erin approached, her gun drawn and her face flushed with adrenaline. They both pointed their guns at Stormand; then Erin kept hers on him as Vance planted a knee between his shoulder blades and cuffed him.
They’d celebrated by going for a steak dinner that night.
“Hey. You. What to drink?”
Vance blinked and found a waiter standing over him. “Oh, um, sorry. Water.”
“Tea. The non–Long Island kind,” Erin said with a charming grin, then looked at Vance as the waiter walked off. “Sorry. I keep forgetting how you don’t find alcoholism jokes funny.”
“Yeah, you saved my life. I may have saved yours, too. Just without a gun.”
“I give you a hard time. But you know I mean it when I say I’m thankful.” Erin looked contemplative as she leaned forward, her elbows on the edge of the table. “I always wondered if you were serious.”
“Serious about what?”
“You threatened to turn that disc over to the captain.”
“I had to get you to wake up, see what you were doing to your life.”
“I know. I just always wondered if you’d really do it.”
“Yeah, Erin. I would’ve really done it. And I would expect that you’d do the same for me. It’s called tough love. Besides, we said we’d never talk about that again.”
“It was years ago. Who cares now, right?”
Vance was silent as the waiter arrived with their drinks. He squeezed a lemon over his glass, the juice stinging his cuticles. He wondered if Erin had ever understood what he risked that day. For her. He’d never completely understood his motives for it, except that he figured he owed her one. A big one.
“I’m assuming you destroyed the disc, right?”
“Erin, the important thing is that you got your life on track. That woke you up, as it should have. And look at you now. You’re thriving. Doing great. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”
Erin leaned back in her chair. She stared out the window. “Did you follow the execution?”
“Yeah. Told myself I wouldn’t. But I did.”
“Me too.”
“I still have dreams. They’re vivid.” Vance paused before his next words. “I hear that rifle.”
Erin looked away from the window, studied him.
“I just thought by now this would go away,” Vance said, his gaze tracing the shoreline.
“I don’t talk about it here,” Erin said. “Nobody gets it if you weren’t there.”
The waiter returned to take their order, and they chatted a little about how Chicago was working out for Erin. She seemed happy. When she talked about police work, her eyes brightened in a way that they never would otherwise.
“So how’s it been living near your father?”
“I’m going to apply for lieutenant.”
Vance couldn’t hide his surprise. “You said you’d never do that.”
“My dad wants it so badly for me, I guess. You know how I have to carry on the family name and all that.”
They continued to talk while the food was served, and as they did, Vance came to a remarkable conclusion. He didn’t know it before, but as he sat there with his former partner, he realized that he’d put more behind him than he’d thought. He didn’t feel chained to Erin anymore. Didn’t feel grief over their fallout. Still felt remorse over one of the greatest mistakes he’d ever made, but he could deal with that. He would deal with it. Maybe he’d even tell Lindy about it once they got settled in California.
Could she handle it?
He didn’t know yet. It had taken him years to even face what he’d done. It was a long time ago. And as he listened intently to Erin tell some great cop stories from her time in Chicago, Vance couldn’t help but smile to himself. He couldn’t wait for lunch to be finished, to say his good-byes, and to get to California to be with his family.
He’d known seeing Erin would help him put his past behind him, but he hadn’t realized it would show him he was well on his way.
***
“Get in the house! Get in there!”
“Mom?” Conner’s voice snapped Lindy’s focus back onto the road and away from memories that sometimes seemed a hundred years old. She slowly pulled to the curb and put the car in park. The shouting that rattled through her mind faded into the sounds of birds chirping in trees above her. The neighborhood road was quaint. Quiet.
“What are we doing, Mom?”
“Hold on.” Ahead, a tidy-looking condo with a large, manicured f
ront lawn boasted a small sign with red lettering that said For Rent.
She double-checked the address from the piece of paper she’d printed out with local houses and condos for rent.
She noticed a woman walk out with a broom. She started sweeping the front porch.
“Mom? What’s going on?”
She was weary from the trip and Conner’s inability to sleep well in a hotel room.
“Give me a sec, Conner.”
After watching the woman for a moment, she got out of the car and looked the opposite way, down the adjacent sidewalk. A small storefront with dirtied windows and a large crack in the sidewalk out front also had a For Lease sign posted in its window.
Conner was now out of the car, hands on his hips, his brow furrowed just like Vance’s. She put an arm around him and pulled him to her hip. “Look ahead.”
“What?”
“See that condo?”
“What’s a condo?”
“It’s kind of like an apartment. Except it sometimes has a yard.”
“I thought we were getting a house.”
“Honey, we can’t afford a house in this city.”
“What city is this, anyway? Hollywood?”
“No, sweetie. We’re in northern California. This is Redwood City.”
It certainly lived up to its name, too. Majestic redwoods towered over the town, causing everything to look like a miniature village.
Conner watched the woman on the porch. “I don’t like it.”
Lindy sighed and let go of his shoulder. She squatted to his level. “Honey, I know this isn’t like Maryland. I know you’d like a house. I’d like a house too. And someday we will have one. But we have to start small. Get our business going.” She stood. “And see down this street? Look. See that sign that says For Lease?”
“Yeah.”
“That could be our deli. We could walk there!”
Conner didn’t seem to see the significance. He was now focused on an acorn on the sidewalk. He scooped it up and pretended to be a squirrel.
Lindy locked the car and walked across the street with Conner in tow. The woman with the broom noticed and stepped down the porch to greet her.
“Hi. Can I help you?”
“I’m interested in this condo.”
“You’re in luck! I’m one of the owners, Shirley Wright, along with my sister, Linda Beavers. Was just tidying it up. Want to take a look inside?”
Still holding Conner’s hand, Lindy walked inside. The carpet, beige and soft, looked brand-new. The kitchen was smaller than she would’ve liked, but the large living room made up for it. Two bedrooms of equal size were separated by a decent-size bathroom.
“How long has this been for rent?”
“About a week.”
“I’m moving here to start a deli. I noticed a small storefront over there.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful place. You would love it. It used to be a newspaper stand and bookstore, owned for twenty-five years by Guy Clement. Wonderful, wonderful man. Passed away six months ago and his family closed the shop.” She smiled as she looked out the window. “It would make a perfect place for a deli. This square mile is full of good people.” Shirley patted Lindy on the shoulder. “Give me a moment. I’ll go to my car and get the sheet with all the information on it, okay?”
“That would be great. Thank you.” She turned to Conner, who was doing handstands in the middle of the room. “What do you think, buddy?”
“Microchip backyard.”
“But a nice front yard.”
“You won’t let me play in the front yard.”
Lindy sighed. It wasn’t her rule. It was his father’s, but she kept her mouth shut. She walked through the condo again, room to room. For no reason she could understand, her thoughts continued to roam back to darker times.
“You have to let me out!” Lindy had screamed.
“It’s not safe! Don’t you see it’s not safe?” Vance’s eyes were soaked with terror. His strong hand gripped her upper arm, squeezing it uncomfortably.
“You don’t know what it’s like to stay here. To not even go outside.”
Vance let go of her and leaned against the doorframe, a hand combing viciously through his hair. “We’re trying everything. Everything, Lindy. It’s like a ghost. He comes and kills and vanishes.”
Lindy took his shoulders. “Vance, listen to me. It’s not a ghost. It’s someone out there committing these horrible crimes for who knows what reason. You can do this. You can catch whoever this is.” She placed a hand on his cheek. His skin felt flushed.
He put his hand over hers and closed his eyes, looking as if he might rest for a moment. “Just stay inside. And stay away from the windows. . . .”
“. . . and this will show you the square footage. And the estimated cost of heating and cooling the place . . .”
Lindy looked up, just now realizing Shirley had walked back in. They stood by the kitchen bar, and Shirley busily talked about the condo. Lindy’s attention darted to Conner, who had walked out the front door and was playing in the yard. She started to call to him, but Shirley said, “So what do you think?”
Lindy took in a breath and tried to focus. Was this the place? Was this where she was supposed to find her new beginning?
“Shirley, who used to live here?”
“A little old woman named Sue Smith. Ninety-four years old. Was supposed to be homebound. A shut-in, I guess you could say. But kept escaping.” Shirley smiled. “She was quite a firecracker, let me tell you. Finally her family decided to move her to a home. But I suspect that hasn’t done much to contain her.”
Lindy squeezed Shirley’s arm and offered a warm smile. “It’s perfect. I’ll take it.”
“Wonderful! Let’s get the paperwork started. I’ll be right back.”
Shirley went to her car and Lindy followed her out, watching Conner bounce around the front yard. She intended to get the number off the storefront. She also wanted to call Vance, tell him the good news.
Conner bounded up to her. “Where is Dad? Why isn’t he here?”
“He’s on his way,” Lindy said, patting his head full of wavy hair. “He stopped off to see someone.”
“Who?”
“An old friend.”
“How old? Like a hundred?”
“I mean former friend. Former partner.” Lindy sighed, exhausted at even having to explain it. “Anyway, he’s coming. In fact, I’m going to call him now.” She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Vance, but it went straight to voice mail. She absorbed the disappointment, but it reminded her of a night she couldn’t get ahold of Vance. She’d called and called and nothing. It was her birthday, a little over a year after they’d married. They’d had plans to go out to eat when he got off work.
He arrived home at eleven. Lindy had fought resentment. “Where have you been?”
“Something happened at work,” he said. Then the realization snapped across his face like a strong north wind. “Your birthday.”
She couldn’t control the tears.
“I’m sorry. I am so sorry. We had this thing happen. . . . We caught this man that we’d been looking for . . .”
“Why didn’t you call?”
Vance didn’t answer, and Lindy couldn’t fathom what the excuse might be. She’d gone to bed that night without speaking to him anymore. The next morning he’d gotten up early and made her a big breakfast. He took off work, and they spent the day together.
It made up for it all.
Four years later, at some police banquet, Erin spilled the beans . . . that Vance was nearly killed. That she’d shot the guy. That they’d gone out for a steak afterward. Lindy smiled, pretending to know every detail.
“Did you get ahold of Dad?”
Lindy glanced at her cell phone. He was probably in a dead zone. She knew he wouldn’t turn his phone off. She had to believe it.
“Not yet.”
She spent three hours with the landlord, filling out paperwork a
nd checking credit. By dark, she had the keys to the condo and had called the movers with the address; their things would be delivered sometime the next afternoon. She’d also heard from Vance, just briefly. He sounded excited, talking fast about the idea that he felt free.
And when she told him about the condo and the commercial space down the road, it seemed to send a shock of joy through him. “This is it, baby,” he said. “This is our new beginning.”
They worked out a few details. Then his phone went fuzzy again and dropped the call.
She took Conner out for a burger, and they drove around looking at their new city. For once, she started to allow herself to feel some hope.
* * *
Although he was making great time and had enjoyed the Midwestern scenery during the day, by now the Nebraska roads were getting tedious. And Vance had lost cell service again.
He was tired, but he wanted to push forward another few hours. Up ahead, a neon sign flashed Diner.
He could get a cup of coffee and a burger to go.
Suddenly his cell phone lit up. He snatched it off the passenger seat without even looking at the screen. “Hey!”
“Mr. Graegan?” The voice sounded husky.
“Yes?”
“It’s Joe from Movers Unlimited.”
“Hi. I’m sorry. I was expecting my wife.” Vance pulled into the parking lot of the diner. Through lit windows, he could see patrons, mostly truckers, enjoying hot meals.
“I’m sorry to inform you, but we have a problem.”
4
Vance stood outside his car, a driving north wind reminding him he was underdressed for the weather. Where was his jacket? He peeked inside his car but didn’t see it. Maybe it was in the trunk or buried under something in the backseat?
He opened the car door, snatched the contract off the front seat, folded it, tucked it under his arm, and headed inside the diner. The warmth did nothing to soothe him, nor did the greasy smell coming off the grill. He’d lost his appetite, big-time.
He sat at the bar and ordered a tall coffee and a burger. He had to eat something because now he definitely wasn’t going to be stopping for the night.
Possession Page 3
