by Sara Davison
His gaze shifted to Nicole, bent over the still body of her husband. The picture his dad had painted of ten-year-old Gage, dripping with blood and fighting to protect his brother, flashed through his mind, followed by a glimpse of Matthew Gibson as he had last seen him, covered in bruises and doing his best to muster a smile. Daniel drew in a deep breath. “… west.”
He tossed the receiver onto his seat and shoved the door shut. Another police car and an ambulance roared in behind Nicole’s car, sirens wailing. The red flashing lights reflected off the hazy fog, giving the neighborhood an otherworldly feel. Daniel pointed to where Sharleen crouched beside the man lying on the front porch then headed for Nicole.
Chapter Forty-Eight
The back of his head scraping against concrete, Gage turned to watch Nicole, her blonde hair streaming out behind her as she ran toward him.
Holden reached him first and dropped down beside him. It helped Gage to know his brother was there, to feel his strong fingers clutch Gage’s and pull them to his chest. To have the scars on their palms pressed together, warm, damp blood mingling between their clasped hands once again. It gave him the strength to keep his gaze steadily on the woman he would always love as she drew close.
Images drifted through his mind like a movie in slow motion. He saw her in the diner that night, clutching the small gold cross between her fingers. The look on her face as she studied him the day her parents hadn’t shown up, wanting to believe it when he told her he loved her for the first time. A faint smile turned up the corners of his mouth when he remembered the joy that flooded her face when she finally accepted the truth.
Those pictures faded as a vision of her lying beside him on their wedding night shimmered in the air before him. Her freckles glowed in the lamplight that caught the gold flecks in her eyes as she trailed her fingers over his chest and told him he was the most courageous man she had ever known. He clung to that apparition, lifting his hand slightly into the air, reaching for her, desperate to touch her, to feel her soft, warm flesh beneath his fingers one more time.
The images faded as a terrible cold moved through him, beginning down deep in his core and spreading all through his body. He blinked away the fog as Nicole fell to her knees at his other side. He kept his eyes fastened on her as she flickered and dimmed, as her trembling hand grasped his and held it tight, as he heard his name on her lips one last time, and as—thank God—a faint light of understanding glimmered in the green eyes he loved.
Then everything went dark.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Daniel turned off the engine of his car and sat, gripping the wheel and bracing himself for what lay ahead. For once, Sharleen was silent beside him, giving him time. When he felt fortified enough to get out of the vehicle, he drew in a long breath, released his hold on the wheel, and pushed open the door. He closed it quietly behind him and rounded the front of the car. His legs were weak, and he leaned against the hood.
His partner came around to stand beside him. The two of them gazed down the hill of lush grass, spread out before them like a calm sea. At the bottom of the slope, beneath a towering maple tree, a small group of people had gathered. Dressed in somber colors, they huddled together in front of a closed coffin. Behind the simple wooden box, a hole in the ground gaped black and empty. A shudder gripped Daniel and he crossed his arms over his chest.
Sharleen nudged him. “You okay?” Even her quiet whisper seemed a desecration of this sacred moment.
Daniel had no idea how to answer that. After a few seconds, he lifted his shoulders. “I will be. It’s not me I’m worried about.” His eyes sought Nicole out. She wore a simple black dress and had pulled her blonde hair up into a loose bun. Even from a distance she appeared to be shivering, although that was likely less about the unseasonably cool July morning and more about the circumstances. Connie stood to her right, clutching a small beige purse. Holden flanked Nicole on the left, his arm around her waist. She’s not alone. The thought brought Daniel scant comfort, but he prayed it would help her get through the endless days and nights ahead.
A man stood at the foot of the coffin, holding a book. Daniel couldn’t hear what he said, but he didn’t envy him the task of commending the soul to God of a person who’d been gunned down in the streets, sacrificing himself to save a child. Hopefully the preacher would have more success reconciling those two truths than Daniel had achieved.
“What are you going to do?”
His partner’s whispered words tore through him like an agonized scream. Did she mean in this moment or with his future? The distinction was irrelevant. He was incapable of thinking beyond the scene playing out before him. He clawed through the darkness pressing on him to find the answer. “I’m going to talk to the DS this afternoon about the night Gage …” He stopped and cleared his throat. “The night of the last abduction.”
She tensed. “What are you going to tell him?”
“The truth. That I sent everyone in the wrong direction.”
“Could have been a mistake, in the chaos of the moment.”
He met her gaze. “It wasn’t.”
“You might be done.”
“I know.” Although he supposed he would care, at some point, today he couldn’t bring himself to. “That will be up to internal affairs.”
Sharleen released a long, slow breath. “I don’t want to lose my partner.”
Too late for that. I’m already lost. He uncrossed his arms and slid one around her shoulders. “I know. I’m sorry.”
She rested her head on his chest. “Don’t be. You did what you had to do.”
Daniel studied the flower-draped coffin. Was the man beside it saying the same thing about Gage? That was the only way to begin to comprehend what Nicole’s husband had done. Whether it had been his conscience, or his past, or his belief in a God who stood with the vulnerable and hurting—likely all three—Gage had done what he’d been compelled to do, in spite of the potentially astronomical cost.
For a few brief seconds, at the scene that night, Daniel had managed to fully grasp that. And to do what he had to do in response. As steep a penalty as he would face, gazing down at the people gathered around Gage’s grave, shoulders bowed beneath their loss, Daniel couldn’t bring himself to regret that decision. It gave the people who’d taken Matthew the time they’d needed. As before, the vehicle had disappeared without a trace. Gage’s death had not been for nothing. Matthew Gibson was safe. Daniel hoped and prayed that knowledge would bring Nicole at least a small measure of peace.
“What about Nicole?”
He looked down at Sharleen. “What about her?”
“Will you try and see her?”
Daniel’s attention shifted back to the grieving widow. “I don’t know. Not for a while, anyway.” The timing had been wrong for him and Nicole from the start. Would it ever be right? Only God knew.
He transferred his weight from one foot to the other. He hadn’t been entirely truthful with his partner. He would see Nicole. From a distance. As compelled as he had been to help Matthew Gibson escape, he was equally driven to watch out for Nicole, to make sure she was okay. If he couldn’t be with her, he could at least keep an eye on her. For his own peace of mind, he had to know how she was doing. And if she ever needed him, he’d be more than happy to slip into Good Samaritan mode and be there for her.
A movement at the bottom of the hill caught his attention. Daniel’s chest clenched as Nicole stepped forward and rested a hand on Gage’s coffin, her shoulders shaking. He forced himself not to look away, although the sight ripped out his heart. The futility of his plans struck him. He’d do what he could, assuming he wasn’t behind bars, but for now, at least, Daniel had to let her go. Nicole was in God’s hands. So was Matthew Gibson.
And so was he.
Chapter Fifty
Nicole stood for a long time on the first step of the diner. Snow drifted down from the pewter January sky. Icy flakes landed on her head and shoulders and slid down her neck, but she
ignored the tingling chill. Her eyes remained focused on the dark sign hanging above the door. She could barely make out the letters in the dim glow of the street lamp down the block. Joe’s.
She pressed her eyes shut as two tears slipped beneath the lids and trickled down her cheeks. Their warmth on her cold skin roused her and she shook her head, sending snowflakes swirling around her to the sidewalk. She opened her eyes and drew in a slow, deep breath as she pulled the set of keys from the pocket of the long black wool coat she wore. Father, help me. Give me strength. I can’t do this without you. Her fingers shook, but she managed to slide the key into the hole. The lock slid across with a soft click, and she turned the handle and pushed open the door. The jangle of bells greeted her, bringing a sad smile flitting across her face.
Nicole reached around the doorframe and felt for the light switch. With a heavy sigh, she flipped the switch and moved back outside to watch.
The sign above the door flickered and hummed before all the letters lit up. Nicole nodded slowly and stepped back into the diner. When the door closed behind her, she took hold of the sign bouncing lightly against the glass and turned it to Open. She slid off her coat and hung it on the hook behind the door.
The employees she’d hired and trained arrived a few minutes later, laughing and talking loudly to each other. Customers gradually filtered in, most offering their condolences on Joe’s passing and telling her how happy they were that she had opened the diner again. As they shared with her their favorite memories of Joe, and of this place that he and Connie had created, a gradual warmth seeped through her, thawing the cold ache of loss in her chest. The familiar noises coming from the kitchen—the sizzle of a basket of home fries lowered into a vat of hot grease, the clanging of silverware pulled from the racks, the clinking of mugs and glasses—although they clutched at her chest, felt right, somehow. Brought life back into this place.
Connie came downstairs in time for the morning rush. She grabbed a pot of coffee and worked the room, refilling cups, hugging old friends, and comforting everyone who expressed sorrow over Joe’s loss. Across the crowded room, Nicole caught a glimpse of her laughing as she tucked a stray curl into her hairnet. The familiar gesture tugged at Nicole’s heart. Yes, the diner was hers to run now, but Connie would be nearby if Nicole needed her. I can do this. She grabbed the two plates loaded with fried eggs and ham that the new cook slid through the window from the kitchen and headed for her table.
As the sky lightened, more and more of the old customers streamed through the door, filling the red vinyl benches. Nicole ran all morning, carrying trays loaded with bacon and eggs and sausages. As noon approached, she passed by the kitchen with a load of dirty plates. She bit her lip when the aroma of frying burgers drifted out above the swinging doors, then she pushed back her shoulders and carried the dishes over to the gray bin behind the counter.
Bells tinkled. Nicole was in the middle of taking an order from a crowded table, but she glanced over. A woman with long reddish hair stepped into the diner. Christina. Nicole’s breath caught when Holden followed her in, his round glasses fogging as they hit the warm air. He tugged them off and their eyes met. Holden waved a gloved hand. Nicole pointed to an empty booth with her pen. He nodded and rested his hand on the small of Christina’s back to guide her across the room.
Nicole finished taking the order. She clipped it to the line hanging across the top of the opening between the diner and the kitchen before making her way to the booth. When she reached it, Holden rose to kiss her on the cheek. He gestured to the packed room as he sat. “This is incredible.”
“I know. It’s been a little crazy. Good, though.”
“You must be exhausted.” Concern swam in his dark eyes as he studied her.
She shoved a strand of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t had time to think about it, to be honest. I’m sure it will hit me at some point.” The light above the table glinted off something and Nicole’s eyes widened. “Christina!” She grabbed the woman’s left hand and lifted it to examine the ring on her finger. “It’s gorgeous.” She shifted her attention to Gage’s brother.
Holden looked a little sheepish. “Yeah, sorry Nic. We got engaged a few days ago. I was going to call you, but Christina suggested we come in today and tell you in person.”
“I’m glad you did. I’m happy for you both.”
Christina squeezed Nicole’s hand. “Thank you. We’re happy too.”
Nicole let her go and contemplated her brother-in-law as she pulled out her notepad to take their order. Holden had struggled since Gage’s death. For a while he’d floundered in the dark hole that had so often sucked him and his brother down into its depths. Christina had never given up on him, and between God, her, and his psychiatrist, he’d managed to break free. Deep lines grooved his forehead and he was thinner than he’d been six months ago, but the light had returned to his eyes, more so today than Nicole had seen in a long time.
She kept an eye on them as she waited on other tables and cleared away dishes. The two rarely took their eyes off each other as they ate. As crowded as the room was, they could have been the only two people in it. The tension in Nicole’s shoulder muscles eased. He would be okay.
When they’d finished and paid the bill, Holden pulled Nicole in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, all right?”
She nodded. “I will.”
Christina hugged her too. “Come to Holden’s for dinner your next day off?”
“I’d love to.”
“Good.” The warmth in her voice was genuine and Nicole smiled. She’d been so busy the last few years, between school and work and Gage, she hadn’t had time to invest in making friends. It appeared as though God had brought one into her life at the moment she needed her the most. “Holden will wait on us so you can sit and put your feet up for a change.” Christina winked at him.
Holden held Christina’s coat for her as she slid her arms into the sleeves. “I can do that.” He whispered something in her ear and she laughed, her cheeks pink.
The ache that accompanied Nicole every moment, that had burrowed itself between her lungs like another organ in her body, deepened a little. Would she ever know that kind of love again?
Nicole gazed after them as they maneuvered between chairs and disappeared out the door. A man at another table lifted a finger and she tugged the notepad from her pocket and went to calculate his bill.
By the time the supper crowd had thinned out, every muscle in Nicole’s body ached. She groaned and dropped onto a stool, propped her elbow on the counter, and rested her head on one hand. Connie had headed to her apartment around three for a nap. If they were going to stay this busy, she would definitely need to hire another waitress or two. Maybe she could ask—
The door opened behind her with a loud jangle of bells. Nicole whirled around as a blast of frigid air blew into the diner. A rumpled fedora poked around the edge of the door and was quickly removed and pressed to the chest of the older man that followed it inside, wariness and hope flitting across his weathered face. “Are you open, then, ma’am?”
Nicole hesitated, then jumped to her feet and strode across the diner to grasp the handle of the door and open it wide. “Yes. We’re open. Come on in.”
Three other men, their clothes worn and grimy, trudged through the door after the first. The last one stopped and closed his eyes. As Nicole shut the door behind him, he took a long, slow breath. When his eyes opened, a look of pure pleasure had settled on his face. “Ah, I’ve missed that aroma.” He patted Nicole’s arm. “It smells like home.”
She glanced down, expecting revulsion. Instead, an overwhelming desire to warm up the fingers that the intense cold had gnarled and twisted filled her. A revelation slowly wove its way into her consciousness, the thought that Connie and Joe had shared a secret wisdom she hadn’t been privy to or had refused to acknowledge. Nicole covered the man’s hand briefly with her own before nodding in the direction of the booth in the corner. “Why don’t you go make y
ourself comfortable? I’ll get you all cups of coffee. The burgers are on the house tonight, opening day special.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” His blue eyes twinkled as he dipped his chin to his chest.
Nicole watched him until he slid into the booth with the others. She glanced at the clock above the door. 8:02. Right on time. The corners of her mouth turned up as she headed to the counter to grab the coffee. Gripping the steaming pot tightly in one hand, she made her way to the back of the diner. The red glow from the stoplight on the street corner reflected rose against the glass and she stopped for a moment to gaze out the big front window. Her hand rubbed small circles over her rounded belly as she watched the cars passing by, sending mounds of slush shooting toward the curb.
As she started to turn away, something caught her eye and she looked back quickly. Daniel leaned against the lamppost down the street, his gaze fixed on the window where she stood.
Their eyes locked and for a moment, she couldn’t move. Then a smile crept across her face and she raised a hand.
Daniel lifted his hand in response. A soft light fell from the lamp above him, casting a golden circle onto the glistening snow below. In its warm glow, she caught his answering smile, and the heaviness that had settled down deep inside of her six months ago—the night Gage died—lightened a little.
