by V. K. Powell
Leigh tried again. “If you’d just let me explain.”
“Not necessary. I won’t feel comfortable having you around anymore. Sorry.”
“Can I have a few days to find another place? I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Not at all what she needed to say, but her usual calm demeanor evaporated under Macy’s dark eyes that sparked like flints.
“You have two days.”
As Macy walked away, something sad and familiar settled in Leigh’s chest. She’d been summarily dismissed, deemed insignificant, like she had in the past when she hadn’t spoken up for herself. She’d been a child when her mother’s absences and indifference seemed so personal. With Gayle she’d tried too hard to be something she wasn’t, denying herself for the relationship. What about Macy made her feel so off balance? Why didn’t she just assume her cop persona and tell her everything? Maybe because she already cared too much?
Looking out over the lake, she realized that wasn’t it. She was scared, afraid if she told the truth Macy would still find her lacking, which disturbed her more than being insignificant. But she’d take the risk. If Macy rejected her, it would be because she knew everything. She’d let Macy cool off until tomorrow while she decided exactly what to say.
Chapter Nine
Macy crumpled another sheet of vellum paper and flung it in the direction of the overflowing trash bin. She couldn’t concentrate enough to actually make progress on the drawing, though she’d been trying since daybreak. Her surprise at the news about Leigh had quickly morphed into anger and left her too agitated for the delicate work.
She’d harbored animosity about the shoddy investigation of Jesse’s disappearance for years. When she began working for the police as a forensic artist, she’d expected to purge those feelings and have other chances to find Jesse. Her plan worked for a while, but Sergeant Rickard’s denial of her final plea had renewed her distrust and dislike for anyone wearing a badge. Finding out Leigh was a cop had broadsided her. She’d reacted impulsively and abandoned her usual control for the satisfaction of being pissed off and venting.
Now she was choking on regret—for renting to Leigh in the first place, for not checking her out, for trusting her, for caring enough to be bothered by her, and for letting anger dictate her actions. Leigh wasn’t responsible for the entire police department, but she was responsible for intentionally lying. She wasn’t really sure why it mattered so much. Honesty wasn’t part of their landlord-tenant relationship, and she had no right to Leigh’s entire life story. Sharing a few moments of candid conversation didn’t give her special privileges. She’d simply dropped her guard last night and enjoyed it, and Trudy’s revelation had surprised her.
But Leigh had stood there and taken her angry rant without offering one word in her own defense. Why, when she’d been so forthcoming about other things, would she not try to explain? Then she remembered, Leigh had tried, but she’d cut her off, refused to let her speak, too high on outrage to listen. This was the reason she didn’t do relationships. She lacked the get-along gene, the compatibility component, or something. Her foul moods, led strongly by guilt and anger, always blocked her path to anything lasting. The thin vellum she was drawing on ripped beneath her heavy-handed strokes, destroying another attempt, and she dropped the pencil on the desk. She couldn’t get anything right.
She’d tried with Julia, but they’d drowned in lesbian-bed-death-but-everything-else-is-fine-itis—the malady that couples suffered when they were too oblivious to face their issues or too afraid to end it. The real fault had been hers, and she’d quickly agreed to the separation when Julia asked. What made her think, even briefly, that she could or should impose her dysfunction on anyone else?
She thumbed the jagged scar on her left wrist, a reminder of how precious life was and how quickly it could disappear. What do you want, Macy? The answer was immediate—she wanted to talk to Leigh, to apologize and actually listen to what she had to say. If she was going to dismiss the first woman who’d sparked an interest in years, she wanted the reason to be a damn good one, not something she’d concocted.
She hung up her lab coat and opened the front door, but Leigh’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Macy hadn’t heard her leave, but it was possible she’d gone after her tirade. Who could blame her? Would Leigh move in with one of the people she’d seen on the dock? She wanted to be the person Leigh turned to. Illogical as that sounded, it felt right, though she hadn’t really listened to her gut for months. When she closed the door and turned back to the safety and comfort of her retreat, only an empty chill greeted her.
*
“Turnabout is fair play,” Leigh said when Pam opened the door in her sleeping shorts and tank top, though it was after eleven a.m.
“Yeah, but I brought coffee.”
“Sorry.” She’d been driving around since early morning waiting for a decent hour to show up at Pam’s door. She hugged Pam and dropped onto the sofa as if the burden she carried were a visible weight.
“Don’t move while I put on another pot of coffee.”
Pam’s house was like a well-decorated mini sports stadium. Her leather furniture was comfortable but not gaudy and her accessories tasteful contemporary, but the flat-screen TV against the wall dominated the space. Her favorite motto to any prospective partner was love me, love my flat-screen.
In a few minutes, Pam returned with the coffeepot and two cups of hot caffeinated heaven on a serving tray. “I’m not sure how cops, nurses, social workers, and probation officers would survive without coffee twenty-four-seven. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner of champions. So, what’s going on?”
Leigh took a sip before launching into a story that had no good points. “I’ve messed up, big-time.”
“Again?”
“Not funny. I mean more, in a different way this time…with Macy.”
“Uh-oh. I thought she was just your landlord.”
“Not helping, Pam.”
“You’re right. My feeling antennae aren’t activated yet. Please, go on.”
She wasn’t sure where to start—with the lie, the sharing, the touching, or the feelings. They’d all lead back to the same screwed-up place anyway. “I lied to her. A lie of omission, but she found out.”
This time Pam didn’t have a smart-ass comeback. She sipped her coffee, choosing her words carefully. “You didn’t tell her about the job?”
Leigh shook her head. “I know, you told me it was a bad idea. But if she got to know me first, she might not think I was a complete loser.”
“Now she thinks you’re a lying loser. Not sure you’ve gained any ground.” She held up her hand before Leigh could respond. “I know, also not helpful. Did she give you a chance to explain?”
“Nope. She told me to pack my stuff and be out in two days.”
“Ouch. That seems harsh, maybe a little overreaction. What does she care as long as you pay the rent? Did something else happen?”
Hiding anything from Pam was like trying to hide it from her own reflection. “Not really. I guess, technically, we had a couple of moments.”
Pam placed her coffee on the side table and turned toward her. “My best and dearest friend, having a moment is not technical. Either you did or you didn’t, and you’d feel it.”
She relayed their interaction at the woodpile, Macy’s metamorphosis from ice queen to touch-receptive hottie, and their conversation about family. As she retold the story, her stomach tightened into a mass of nerves. They were developing trust, but they’d built it on a lie, her lie. No wonder Macy was irate. She didn’t seem the type to take emotional risks lightly, and Leigh had proved she wasn’t worthy of this one. Maybe if they hadn’t had those moments, Macy wouldn’t be so upset.
“I’ve got to talk to her, make her understand it wasn’t personal.”
“Whoa, whatever you do, don’t say that. I’d bet money she thinks it’s personal. And from the look on your face, so do you. Have you fallen for this woman?”
She couldn’t answ
er immediately, too many conflicting feelings warring inside. “I’ve only known her a few days.” Why had she thought she mattered to Macy Sheridan anyway? They’d talked a few times, which didn’t mean they were bonded for life, but the loss settled in that sensitive spot deep in her gut that always knew the truth.
“That’s not really a denial. If you care about her, give her time to calm down. She’s not thinking clearly while she’s angry. In the meantime, decide what you want.”
“Guess you’re right.”
“I’m always right.” Pam topped up their coffee cups and her look softened. “You’ve never been afraid of taking an emotional risk…except where your mother’s concerned.”
The mention of her mother brought up the other two-ton weight around her neck. “And that’s another thing. Hedy is pressuring me to talk to Susan.”
“When your mother’s gone, you’ll see things differently. Trust me.”
“But you and your mother were best friends. Susan and I will never be.”
“How exactly is Hedy pressuring you? This ought to be good. That little sister of yours is almost as cute, feisty, and smart as you.”
“She’s pregnant.”
“About damn time. I was beginning to think Bo was shooting blanks.” She gave Leigh a sideways glance. “That’s a great reason to reconsider. Family is family, no matter how dysfunctional. And Hedy will need all the support she can get with a new baby. It’s not like having a puppy. Well, it sort of is, but more time-consuming.”
Leigh shook her head. “Why did I come to you? So far you haven’t told me anything I wanted to hear.”
“That’s why I’m your best friend. I give you tough love.” Pam rimmed the top of her coffee cup with her finger. “You need to know something else, and you’re not going to like it.”
“Great. As if this day could get any worse.”
“Brace yourself, it’s about to.” Pam took a gasp of air as if it might be her last. “Susan Bryce is a new foster parent with Children and Family Services.”
Leigh stood so quickly her coffee cup tumbled off her knees and skidded across the hardwood floor, leaving a dark, wet trail. “What? How the hell did that happen?” She cringed at her shrill voice, several octaves above her usual contralto.
She retreated to the kitchen for a paper towel, as if leaving the room could distance her from the unwanted news echoing in her head. When she returned, Pam stared at her like a scolded dog, contrite and eager to please. As she cleaned up the spill, Pam struggled to explain.
“I didn’t have anything to do with it, and I’m not sure how it happened.”
“Who told you?”
“Nate called this morning to get some background on a new foster parent. I about lost it when he told me it was Susan. He thought it was odd because you’ve been getting phone messages from this woman but don’t return her calls. You never told him she was your mother?”
“We’re partners, not best friends. We don’t really get into personal stuff. So what did you tell him?”
“The truth, and I’m sorry if that pisses you off, but he needed to know. He’s in a bit of a situation…and so are you.”
“What do you mean?”
“He told me about this kid you’re helping, off the books. You could get fired.”
“Not if he keeps his mouth shut. But what has one got to do with the other?” Pam’s face twisted in that odd way that preceded more bad news. How could it beat what she’d just heard?
“Susan is Jack’s foster mom.”
The room felt like it was spinning. Was the entire universe conspiring against her, forcing her to interact with this woman who had done nothing but make her life miserable? “Oh, hell, no! You’ve got to stop this. Get it changed. Have her removed. She’s unfit, and this kid needs somebody he can talk to…and somebody I can communicate with.”
“Have you forgotten we’re in the same boat—suspended? If our bosses find out we’re anywhere near an active case, we’ll be in deep shit.”
“Do you have any idea what she’s like? She didn’t take care of her own children. Why would she care about someone else’s? They don’t mean anything to her. Come to think of it, neither did we. She’s got to be in it for the money.”
“Oh, yeah, because it’s such a high-paying career?” Pam had been looking at her lap for several seconds, avoiding Leigh’s gaze, but her tone was thick with sarcasm. “Did it ever occur to you that she’s changed?”
“Sure, just like a zebra. You sound like Hedy, but she’s naïve.” Leigh couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wouldn’t be shocked if Susan popped out of the bedroom and yelled, surprise. Now she’d gotten herself entwined in Leigh’s professional life, and that was not okay. When she’d knocked on Pam’s door, Macy Sheridan was her most immediate problem. How had the Earth tilted so sharply, and what could she do to right it?
Pam put her arm around her and guided her back to the sofa. “I know she hurt you, Leigh. But you’re a caring person not afraid to show your feelings or put yourself at risk for someone else. Don’t let your pain change that. If you resolved these issues with Susan, maybe you’d find a woman who sees how great you are, and maybe you’d finally believe it yourself.”
“When have I ever said those things to you?”
“Never, but I’m your best friend and I see things.”
Pam was right about one thing. Susan Bryce was the only black hole in her life. When it came to forgiving her for the pain and neglect of childhood, Leigh had a blind spot as big and cold as Alaska. Maybe it was time to at least consider talking to her. It didn’t mean they’d ever be friends, but maybe it was time to make an effort—for Hedy and the baby.
“As I told Hedy, I’ll think about it. Subject closed. Now, did Nate say anything else about Jack?”
“He said to tell you he’s going to see him at noon. He tried to reach you on your cell, but it went straight to voice mail. One of the joys of living in the boonies, I guess.”
Fifteen minutes until noon. She calculated how long it would take to drive to Susan’s and whether she wanted to go. She really had no choice. She’d made a promise to Jack and didn’t intend to break it, certainly not because of Susan. That would make them alike, and Leigh railed at that with everything inside her. “Want to go with me?”
“Not unless you need me. Nate can back you up. Besides, I’m enjoying sleeping late, drinking coffee all day, and being a suspended bum. Maybe next time.” Pam gave her a final hug and followed her to the door. “Let me know how it goes. Love you.”
“Love you too. Thanks for the chat…I think.”
On the short drive to Susan’s, Leigh vowed to keep her visit professional, update Jack, and leave as quickly as possible. She didn’t have any reason to engage Susan in a personal conversation today. By the time she pulled in front of the tidy contemporary townhome, she questioned her sanity for coming at all.
Nate parked behind her and got out of the car without speaking. His usually handsome face was tight around the lips, and parenthesis wrinkles blemished the space between his eyes. She decided to let him make the first move because she had no idea what to say to the man she’d worked with for six years.
“Your mother, really? Why didn’t you tell me? As I recall, I made a smart-ass comment every time she called, about her being one of your pieces of—never mind. That’s just sick now.”
“Sorry, Nate. We don’t get into each other’s personal business, probably why we’re good partners. Susan and I haven’t been in contact for years. She thinks it’s time. I don’t. End of story. Do you forgive me?”
“It stings a little, but sure. Your business is your business, but if you ever need to talk, I’m here. So, why did you come if you don’t want to see her?”
“I promised Jack I’d update him and keep in touch. Any news on his family?”
“Not really. Only ten Temples live in North Carolina, but we’re not even sure his dad grew up here. Even if we were, it’s impossible to narr
ow the field. Ten isn’t really overwhelming, but more information would make it a lot easier. I tried the obits, but nothing popped. If we have to expand beyond NC, you can imagine what kind of nightmare that’ll be. Let’s see if he’ll give us anything else.”
“Thanks for doing this and for keeping me in the loop.”
“Bullshit. You’re my partner.” Nate knocked, and when the woman opened the door, he said, “Holy freaking…sorry, ma’am. I’m Detective Nate Shaver and,” he motioned behind him, “I’m sure you know who this is. Jeez, you two could be twins.”
“No, we couldn’t,” Leigh mumbled under her breath as she nudged him into the house, but he was right. If she’d been a few years older, had a spattering of wrinkles around her eyes, and added ten pounds, at a distance they could pass for twins. It wasn’t a comforting revelation. Now every time she looked in the mirror, she’d see her mother staring back.
“Detective Shaver. Leigh. Please come in.” Susan Bryce stared at her as she entered, and her green eyes misted. Was she tearing up? Not likely. She refused to give Susan the satisfaction of acknowledging her by returning her gaze.
“We’re here to see Jack.” Leigh got to the point before Susan had a chance to engage them in idle chitchat. This wasn’t a social call.
“He’s just having lunch. Could I offer you something, either of you?” Susan walked toward the back of the house, and they followed. The home was open and spacious, with dated but clean furniture throughout and live plants near every window.
“No.” Nate gave Leigh an evil glare. He was always hungry and took a free meal whenever and wherever offered. She shrugged and took the opportunity to assess this woman she hadn’t seen in several years. Susan had taken care of her body—still relatively trim, her face showing little sign of her sixty years. The jeans and fitted blouse she wore were tasteful, not too trendy but not frumpy. If she’d passed Susan on the street, she would’ve thought her an attractive middle-aged woman…if she didn’t know her. But actions spoke louder than words or appearance, and Susan’s actions still screamed in Leigh’s head like a bullhorn.
