He took her hand in his. “I remember.”
Their waiter arrived bearing a phone. “Sheriff Kwinault, apparently you’re not answering your cell.”
She pulled out her cell and looked. “No signal.”
“It’s the police. It’s urgent.” He handed her the receiver.
“Sheriff, it’s Norm Knowles.” The officer sounded grim—and excited. “We found the girl. The girl Cordelia’s texts referenced. The kid is the Milhollands’ foster child, held in the family room … in a dog crate.”
“The Milhollands … the dentists?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You are kidding.” They were both, husband and wife, upstanding members of the community and parents of a popular son who played high school football. And they had been keeping their foster child in a crate? “Why?”
“They said she needed discipline.”
Kateri waited for more. “That’s it?”
“They seemed to think that explained everything. Bergen asked if they didn’t think she needed to go to school, to get an education, to play in the sun, and they said no, she was already spoiled enough and—” Officer Knowles choked.
“Okay, Knowles. Sorry. I should have known that there wasn’t a…” No explanation ever made sense. Not when this happened. Never in these circumstances. “How did you find her?”
“Bergen remembered they had had a foster child, wondered what happened to her, checked, and found out Social Services had lost track of her. He watched the house. Watched Mrs. Milholland shop and wondered why she bought dog food when they had no dog. Finally he stopped by to ask about the child. The girl heard him and screamed and screamed. He called for backup and went in.” Officer Knowles’s tone changed to one of helpless anger. “She’s seven. She was filthy. Starving. We’ve arrested the Milhollands.”
“I would hope to hell!”
“She won’t come out of the crate. There’s a belt there—every time when we try to get her to come out, she looks at it and shakes her head.”
“They beat her.”
“She’s scared and cowering, and we don’t know what to do with her.”
Officer Knowles sounded as panicked as any man facing an emotional crisis of this magnitude. “Did you call Child Protection Services?”
“Yes, but it will take a couple of hours before anyone can get here.”
“Right.” Virtue Falls held little in the way of local human resources. “I’m at Virtue Falls Resort. Can someone come and get me?”
“Moen is already on his way.”
“Good. Send someone to my house to pick up my dog.”
“Your dog?”
“Her name is Lacey. Bring her to the Milhollands. She’ll do us more good than anything.”
He got it now. “Right.”
She hung up, stood, and looked at Luis. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to go.”
Luis sighed and tapped impatient fingers on his glass. “Can’t they take care of anything by themselves?”
“In every other circumstance, yes. Not in this case. I’m the one who can help.” Because Kateri knew what it was to be taken from the place she loved, from the parent who loved her, and given into the hands of indifference and contempt.
Luis didn’t know. Her past was her past, and she made no confessions. So he made his second mistake of the evening (the first being the champagne). “If you are going to be sheriff, you can’t go every time the men think they need a woman’s touch. They’ll be calling you for every little thing.”
She smiled at him, a fake smile that should have warned him how much his advice irritated her. She wanted to point out that she had been his commander, that she had helped train him to hold the exalted position he now held. But he was possibly a little drunk and tonight was his triumph, so she said only, “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind in the future.”
“But not now?” He looked into her eyes. “I had plans for later this evening.”
“We already discussed this.”
“Kateri, this is our time, our chance. Don’t you see? We’re both celebrating our successes. Our lives are running on parallel lines.”
“Yet a frightened girl needs help and I will provide it. Surely you understand compassion.”
He visibly struggled, then leaned back in his chair and relaxed. “Of course. I know you. You must follow your conscience.”
Leaning down, she pressed a kiss on his cheek. “You can have my dessert.”
He laughed mockingly. “That will resign me to going home by myself.”
Her irritation snapped back in place. “I’m sure the newly promoted Coast Guard commander could find companionship.”
His dark eyes watched her mournfully. “But it wouldn’t mean anything. I want only you.”
Harold appeared at her side. “Your ride is here, Sheriff Kwinault.”
With one last squeeze of the fingers, she left Luis alone.
He felt conspicuous sitting here by himself. He felt foolish and abandoned. He had wanted to celebrate his promotion with the one woman who could truly understand what this meant to him. And she had left him alone.
He took a bite of his cheesecake and sipped his espresso. He put down his fork and got to his feet. He thanked Margaret for her gracious hospitality, spoke to the diners who congratulated him on his promotion, went out to his car, and got in. He had enjoyed three glasses of wine. Probably he shouldn’t be driving. Possibly he wasn’t thinking clearly.
He drove to Sienna’s home. He knocked on the door. She opened it to him, took him by the hand, led him inside, and shut the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
At seven thirty in the morning, Kateri dragged up the stairs into city hall, planting her walking stick firmly on each step as she climbed. Beside her, Lacey trotted, her head down and her ears sad.
The night had been difficult for them both.
Inside the building, Kateri nodded at the cop at the counter and headed straight for the back and the coffeepot. She leaned her walking stick against the table and poured herself a cup. She sniffed the coffee; it smelled old and strong. She stirred in some sugar and a good dollop of cream, tasted it, and tossed it down the sink.
Moen had made the coffee again. Just for that, she’d send him to Best Beans for a double-shot espresso that would help her get through the next few hours.… She leaned against the counter and looked around.
Huh. Where was everybody?
She’d walked into a mostly empty patrol room, and after she arrived the few guys who had been sitting at their desks got up and drifted away. Like they were guilty. Or they knew something she didn’t.
Well, well. An unexpected event was going on; time to find out what. “Where are they, Lacey?” she asked.
The dog trotted down the corridor toward the press room.
Kateri started to follow, came to a halt, returned for her walking stick, and gripped it firmly in one fist as she stalked after her dog.
She had her suspicions. She hoped she was wrong … but she knew she wasn’t, and she knew she was totally pissed.
She could hear a male voice drifting down the corridor—Bergen’s voice. Then another male voice, then Bergen.
She stepped into the doorway leading into the press room; she was looking at the side of the podium and Bergen’s profile. Two dozen men filled the chairs, most of them her law enforcement officers. Bergen’s wife, Sandra, sat in the back row. There was also one Seattle TV reporter and his cameraman, and Noah, her campaign manager. Mr. Caldwell, Bergen’s campaign manager, stood at Bergen’s side.
In Kateri’s absence, that treacherous son of a bitch Bergen had called a press conference.
Kateri was exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally, and every other way anyone could imagine, and right now, she did not need this crap.
Her cops spotted her first. They started moving restively.
Then Mr. Caldwell. His nasty grin was a direct challenge.
Noah saw her, but he kep
t taking notes. He was here for the Virtue Falls Herald.
The reporter from the Seattle TV station and his cameraman paid no attention to her.
Sandra Bergen stared fixedly at her husband, arms crossed over her chest.
Kateri walked in, thumping her stick on the old wooden floor with each step, headed for the podium.
Lacey trotted at her side.
Mr. Caldwell moved to intercept her.
One firm walking stick blow to the shin cleared him out of the way.
Bergen stopped talking.
She looked him right in the eyes. “Thank you, Deputy Bergen, for handling the press conference for me. Let me fill in the details, then you can finish up.”
He hesitated. He looked at Sandra. He looked down. He moved aside.
Kateri stepped up to the microphone. Lacey joined her. Kateri thumped the tip of her walking stick hard on the top of Bergen’s foot.
He flinched. But he didn’t make a sound.
Speaking to the audience, she said, “I’m Sheriff Kateri Kwinault. As Deputy Bergen told you, yesterday he discovered the location of a foster child, a girl, seven years old, who was lost from the system and for the past three years had been systematically starved and abused. The Virtue Falls law enforcement team, led by Deputy Bergen, worked hard to quietly and safely extricate her from her situation without allowing her foster parents to do her further harm. Their natural child has also been removed from their custody.” Kateri drew a breath. “Last night I spent six hours coaxing that child out of the dog crate that has been her home.”
The room was abruptly quiet, as if each man held his breath in horror.
Kateri flicked a glance at Mrs. Bergen.
The woman had uncrossed her arms. Now she clutched the seat of her chair and leaned forward, her gaze fixed on Kateri.
Kateri continued, “The child was understandably reluctant, confused, and frightened by the changes in her environment. In short, she didn’t trust us. Although she was starving and dehydrated, she did not respond to promises of food or drink, but rather to my dog, Lacey, who entered the crate and cuddled with her. She also listened to my assurance that I would remain with her while she was settled in a new home and, most sadly”—Kateri’s voice quavered and her eyes filled with tears—“to the promise of a hug.”
Mr. Caldwell grinned.
Noah covered his eyes with his hand.
She knew why. No one wanted an emotional sheriff. Those tears had just lost her the election.
So what the hell. Might as well go for broke. “The child is in the hospital for observation. She’s been fed and bathed. When I left her, she was asleep. In the future, let’s all watch out for each other a little more, be kinder to those who depend on us to shield them from the cruelties of life.” Abruptly, she was done. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Deputy Bergen will handle your questions. I am going to get some sleep.” She stepped away from the podium. She leaned heavily on the staff and limped toward the door.
Lacey followed.
Mr. Caldwell stepped aside.
She smacked him on the shin anyway.
Outside the conference room, she leaned against the wall. She took a few long breaths and heard someone ask, “Did your sheriff sustain an injury in the raid?”
“She wasn’t at the raid.” Mr. Caldwell spoke without the microphone, but loudly enough for everyone, especially Kateri, to hear. “She didn’t know anything about it until the Milhollands had been arrested.”
Bergen said, “That’s Kateri Kwinault. You might remember her from a few years ago, when the tsunami swept through Virtue Falls. She was the Coast Guard commander who saved the Coast Guard cutters and almost lost her life in the process.”
To give Bergen his due, he made her sound like a hero. On the other hand, that information would remind everyone that she had lost the cutter under her own command and been subjected to a court-martial, and that was never good publicity.
Time to go home. Definitely time to go home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Taking care of that little girl had brought childhood moments bubbling up in Kateri’s subconscious, and by late afternoon she was on her feet, fleeing vivid nightmares of dark and fear and being torn from her mother’s arms. She visited Natalie in the hospital; the child was so pathetically grateful to see her, she reminded Kateri of what was important in this life. And it wasn’t winning the sheriff’s race.
Unfortunately, when she walked into the Oceanview Café, Noah was waiting at her table. He hadn’t been reminded of anything. “Did you have to cry?” he asked.
She seated herself across from him. “I didn’t cry.”
“You were doing great. Took command like a pro. Made Bergen and his campaign manager look like the assholes they are. And I saw those strikes you laid on Bergen and his buddy with your walking stick. You don’t even need that thing, do you?”
“On occasion.” She leaned back in her chair, smugly remembering Mr. Caldwell’s wince. “In high school, I took karate. Got good with a bamboo staff. I’ve retained it all.”
“Then you had to cry.” Noah rolled his eyes like a ten-year-old boy.
“I didn’t cry.”
“Girls cry.”
“I can use the staff on you, too.”
Noah grinned. “Okay. Damage is done. Since Bergen couldn’t answer a lot of the important questions because he abandoned the kid after he rescued her—you made that abundantly clear—he wrapped up the press conference in a pretty big hurry. He left with Mrs. Bergen and she was mad about something.”
Interesting. “How do you know?”
“She wasn’t speaking to him. He looked scared, the big sissy.”
“Good. I hope she gave him hell about … something.” Anything.
“In the paper, he looked like a hero.”
“You wrote the article.”
“Gotta keep the paying job.”
“Yesterday I was the hero.”
“In the news, yesterday’s a long time ago. Plus you only found drugs. He saved a kid.” Noah looked hopeful. “I don’t suppose you could save someone?”
Kateri looked at the table where Cordelia frowned at her computer. “I think we found the kid we had the tip on. In fact, I hope we did. I don’t want to think there’s another person out there suffering like that little girl.” She shuddered.
Noah drooped despondently. “I suppose you’re right.”
Kateri laughed. “Oh, Noah.”
“Never mind. I know you’re right. I’m headed to the resort. Elizabeth and the baby are in town. Want to join me?”
“Thank you, I’d love to, but I’m ordering dinner to go, I need to check in at the office, and then I’ve got to get some more sleep.”
“Sleep? Is that what we’re calling it now?” He indicated the door. “Your boyfriend’s here.”
Kateri looked up to see Luis walking in. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Doesn’t matter anymore. We’ve lost the election. You can have a boyfriend.”
“Thank you, Mr. Campaign Manager.” She pointed out the obvious. “He’s not my boyfriend, and even if he were, he’s the Coast Guard commander. He’s not a disreputable guy to date.”
“Females running for office as sheriff can’t date strong men because that makes them look weak, and they can’t date weak men because that makes them look like ballbusters. But that doesn’t matter, because—”
“I didn’t cry.”
“See you later.” Noah kissed her forehead, then headed out the door.
Cordelia watched him hungrily.
Kateri wondered if Noah had even noticed, or if he was pretending to be oblivious.
Luis slid into the chair opposite and smiled with all that Latin charm. “Tell me you’ll go to a movie with me tonight.”
“See these bags under my eyes?” She pointed. “Not tonight.”
“Tomorrow night then. A movie, popcorn, a Coke, and one box of Raisinets.”
“I hate Raisinets.”<
br />
“I know. That leaves them all for me.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“And cute. Don’t forget cute.”
He was cute. Damn him.
Rainbow put the cardboard container of food on the table. “After the week you’ve had, Sheriff, dinner’s on us.”
Kateri shook her head at Rainbow. “Does Dax know he’s buying my dinner?”
“No, but he’s glad to do it.”
“You mean you’ll tell him he’s glad to do it.”
“I mean he’s so grateful to have me working here, he’s glad to do anything I tell him.” In the kitchen, Dax rang a bell and bellowed something about green cheese and loggers, whatever that meant. Rainbow rolled her eyes and headed back to pick up the chili cheese fries and deliver them to the latest group of sunburned tourists in from a hike.
Kateri grabbed her walking stick, prepared to get to her feet, and found Luis helping her with her chair and otherwise assisting her.
Sometimes he was so charming she forgot how incredibly supportive he was—and had been during her long recovery.
He tucked her hand into his elbow, smiled into her face, and led her toward the door. And stopped when Mr. Caldwell called, “Sheriff Kwinault, I stubbed my toe. Here’s my handkerchief if you want to cry about it.”
Luis abandoned Kateri. He stalked toward the table. He put his fists on the table, leaned forward, and in a voice both deadly and angry, he asked, “What kind of man does not cry to hear of cruelty to a child? Only a coward who does not admit to emotion … or a man who can perform such cruelty himself. Which are you, Mr. Caldwell?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
A blotchy red stain under the skin crawled up from under Mr. Caldwell’s collar, up his face, and over his scalp, the flush shining brightly through his thinning hair.
Kateri was afraid he was going to have a stroke. She thought she should say something to defuse the situation.
Then she realized—nothing she said could fix this. This matter was between these two powerful men: between the elderly U.S. statesman and the new Coast Guard commander. And they would not welcome her interference.
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