Do You Take This Cop?

by Beth Andrews

  “Faith,” Nick said gently, “he needs to be able to talk to someone trained to help him recover from being abused.”

  “I’m helping Austin,” she said firmly. “You’ve seen him these last few weeks. He’s coming out of his shell, he has friends and people he can count on. He’s learning to trust again.” She glanced over at Nick. “And so am I.”

  He crouched by her chair, resting his hand on her knee. “I can’t tell you what it means that you trust me, but I’m worried Austin might need professional help. As a matter of fact, you could both benefit by speaking to a family therapist.”

  “Just because he had a temper tantrum over seeing something that upset him doesn’t mean he needs therapy. But…I’ll think about it.”

  Nick tapped her knee. “And you’re saying that to shut me up.”

  How could he read her so easily? “No. Of course I’m not.”

  “I have four sisters. Do you think I can’t tell when a woman is trying to placate me?”

  “I don’t want you to shut up. I just…want you to drop this subject. At least until I’ve had a chance to think things through.”

  “That’s fair enough.” Straightening, he finished his coffee and rinsed out his cup before coming back to her. “I’m going to head out, let you get some sleep.”

  She attempted to smooth her hair. “Do I look that bad?”

  “You look beautiful,” he said sincerely. “I have to work second shift the next two days, but I’m off Thursday and the Sox are playing a doubleheader that night. How about I bring a couple pizzas over after work and we can all watch the second game?”

  “I’m sure he’d love to watch it with you. And so would I.”

  “I’ll see you then.” He kissed her forehead, his lips soft and warm and somehow making even that innocent touch seductive. “At least consider the therapist idea. You can’t run away from your problems by pretending nothing happened.”

  She waited until he’d shut the door behind him before crossing her arms on the table and dropping her head on them. Thank God he didn’t know her problems weren’t the only things she was running from.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  YOU CAN’T KEEP RUNNING… Making a face at her reflection in the mirror of her workstation, Faith shook her plastic cape out with a snap, then folded it neatly in half.

  It wasn’t as if she ignored her problems. How could she when they were always there, staring her in the face? She’d do whatever it took to make sure Austin got the help he needed. But she still worried what the help could cost them. Of what could come out if Austin talked to a therapist.Maybe, in her quest to keep Austin safe, she’d unwittingly made things worse for him, but she’d only been trying to protect him. And hey, her way must not be all wrong, since for the first time in four years she and Austin were part of something bigger than the two of them. They had friends, a community they belonged to and a bright future.

  Best of all, they had Nick.

  She refilled an empty bottle of de-frizzing cream before double-checking that her curling iron, flatiron and hair dryer were unplugged. Britney had left early to change clothes before her dinner meeting with her newly hired—and seriously cute—accountant. Faith wouldn’t be surprised if Harley-riding Michael was soon replaced with horn-rimmed-glasses-wearing Ron.

  A definite improvement. She couldn’t wait to tell Nick when he came over to watch the ball game tonight.

  She smiled at the thought of spending a few hours in front of the TV with him. Instead of fighting her feelings for Nick, she meant to embrace them. Hold on to them for as long as they lasted.

  Someone rapped on the door and Faith raised her eyebrows. Obviously the Closed sign she’d flipped over more than ten minutes ago wasn’t clear enough. She crossed the room, unlocked and then opened the door.

  “Sorry,” she told the petite brunette, “we’re closed until tomorrow.”

  The slim woman pouted, her lower lip sticking out slightly. She was young enough, and pretty enough with her big brown eyes, waist-length hair and flowy sundress, that the expression worked on her.

  “Maybe I could come in and make an appointment?” she asked, her husky voice at complete odds with her fairy looks. “Since I’m here and all.”

  Faith hesitated. The shop was closed, but she wasn’t in the habit of turning away potential clients. Besides, she really wanted to get her hands on that hair. She was thinking a pixie cut, something short, sharp and edgy, with light caramel and reddish-brown highlights for drama.

  Standing aside, she pulled the door open wider. “Come on in and we’ll get you set up. Is there a day or time that’s better for you?” she asked, walking toward the front desk. She flipped open the appointment book. “I have a ten o’clock on Friday—”

  “Actually,” the woman said pleasantly, setting her handbag on the counter, “I’m not really here for a haircut.”

  Faith frowned. “Excuse me?”

  Opening her tiny purse, she pulled out a business card.

  Faith wasn’t sure why, but something told her not to take the card. When she didn’t move, the other woman smiled indulgently and set it on the counter. Faith didn’t even look at it. Instead, she took a step back.

  “My name is Jaiden Leppard, and you,” she continued, “are a very hard woman to track down.”

  Faith swallowed. It felt as if there were a golf ball in her throat. “I don’t understand. Do I… Do we know each other?”

  “Oh, no. At least, not yet. But as we’re going to spend a lot of time together from now on, I suppose that will change. You see, I’ve been hired to find you—”

  Faith’s jaw dropped. “You?”

  “I can assure you, I’m very good at my job.” Jaiden flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Of course, I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t purchased that headstone for your mother’s grave.”

  Faith went numb. “I’m not… I don’t—”

  “You and I both know you did. You shouldn’t have parked your car in the Rockport Post Office parking lot. Unless maybe you didn’t notice the security cameras?”

  Oh, God. Bile rose in her throat and she edged to the side, closer to the shelves of hair products for sale. She’d thought she was being so clever, using money orders to pay for her mother’s headstone. And she’d even gone to several different post offices in Portland to get them, just to be on the safe side.

  She’d bought the grave marker to have closure with her past. Instead, that one act had brought her past back with a vengeance.

  “I’m sorry,” Faith said, hoping the counter blocked Jaiden from seeing that she was reaching behind her. Her hand closed over a bottle of aerosol hair spray. “I think you’re confusing me with someone else.”

  “No, I’m not. As I said, I’m very good at my job. And you, Lynne Addison, aka Faith Lewis, are just who I’ve been looking for.” Then she held up a 4x6 photo.

  Try as she might, Faith couldn’t stop herself from glancing at it. It was a picture of her and Austin—Jon—posing in front of Yankee Stadium.

  Austin was four and she’d taken him to the ballpark to try to coax him out of the angry, sullen mood he’d been in. Not two weeks later, she’d walked in on Miles abusing him.

  “Where did you get that?” Faith asked loudly, letting out some of the hysteria she was feeling, to help mask the sound of her flicking the plastic lid off the hair spray bottle.

  “From my client—who, by the way, wants you back in New York…. Hey, what are you doing?” Jaiden reached for her bag. “Get your hands where I can—”

  Faith leaped forward and sprayed the hair product directly into Jaiden Leppard’s eyes.

  LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER, Faith opened her front door a few inches.

  “Good timing,” Nick said as he climbed her porch steps. He held up a pizza box in one hand, a large paper bag in the other. “I just got here.”She knew that. In between packing and loading her car, she’d been watching for him. When he went to step inside, she held on to the door a
nd blocked his way. “Nick, I’m sorry but I—I’m going to have to cancel tonight.”

  “Everything okay?”

  She pressed her lips together as she nodded. “Fi-fine. It’s just that…Austin…he’s not feeling well—”

  “Nick!”

  At the sound of her son’s distressed cry, she panicked. Before she could stop him, Austin pushed her aside and flew at Nick like a missile.

  “Whoa.” Nick took a step back to keep his balance while Austin wrapped his arms around his waist. “What’s going on, buddy? Your mom says you’re sick?”

  “I don’t want to go.” Austin sniffled. His face was wet and puffy, his hair a sweaty mass. “Make her let us stay.”

  Nick glanced at her in puzzlement. “Why don’t we go inside and sit down and you can tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Austin,” Faith said, more sharply than she’d intended, her mind scrambling with what to do next, “I told you to stay in your room.”

  Austin clung to Nick. “I’m not gonna listen to you anymore. You can’t make me go.”

  Her fingers tightened on the door. She had to get Nick out of here. But with Austin still wrapped around him, he nudged her aside and stepped inside. Setting the pizza box down on the empty coffee table, he laid a hand on Austin’s head. “Someone want to fill me in?”

  Faith shut the door. “This just isn’t a good—”

  “She’s making us leave,” Austin said, “but I don’t want to move again.”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “That’s enough,” Faith warned.

  Austin whirled on her. “I don’t care if he knows. Nick won’t let anyone hurt us.”

  She grabbed her son by the arm and pulled him away from Nick, holding on when he attempted to yank himself free. “Go to your room. Now.”

  “I hate you!” Austin claimed, before racing up the stairs.

  She hugged her arms around herself and concentrated on breathing, on just getting through the next few minutes. “Well, that, plus you showing up, is the perfect end to this, isn’t it?” she said, her voice shaking.

  “What did he mean, you’re leaving?”

  “I really can’t get in to—”

  “What did he mean?” When she shrugged and tried to open the door, he tossed the bag on top of the pizza box. He stalked toward her, and she pressed her back into the solid wood of the door. Luckily, he stopped a few inches away from her. If he touched her now, she’d break. “Talk to me. What’s going on that has you both so upset?”

  Her lower lip quivered. She wanted to rest her forehead against his chest. To cling to him like her son had just done. But she couldn’t afford to. She’d been such a fool to think she deserved this life.

  “We…we’re going away. For a few days. There’s been… Austin’s grandmother is… She’s sick and they don’t think she has much time…”

  “I thought your mother already passed away?”

  Had she told him that? Faith was so terrified, so out of control, she couldn’t even remember. She pushed away from the door, from the temptation of stepping into his arms. “I meant my grandmother. We’re the only family she has left—”

  “If you’re coming back in a few days,” he interrupted quietly, his attention on something behind her, “then where’s all your stuff?”

  “What stuff?”

  “Those pictures of Austin that were here…” He pointed to the long, narrow table that used to hold several framed photos. Striding over to the far end of the couch, he picked up an empty, bright yellow wicker basket. “Austin’s comic books used to be in this, and you had a pink-and-white quilt on the back of that chair.” When she just stared at him, slack-jawed, he raised his eyebrows. “I’m a cop. It’s my job to notice the details.”

  See why she didn’t want him in the house? He was too smart. Too intuitive. And she was too tired and too scared—and cared about him too much—to keep lying. “We’re leaving and we’re not coming back. And I don’t have time to explain more than that.”

  Unable to face him any longer, she hurried back upstairs. Austin’s door was shut, but she didn’t bug him to hurry. Whatever he didn’t get packed, they’d have to leave behind. She wanted to be on the road within the next twenty minutes and at least two hundred miles from Kingsville before Jaiden Leppard even realized they were gone.

  In her own room, she stuffed a few pairs of jeans and her favorite capri pants into a large rolling suitcase. It wasn’t until a drop fell on the back of her hand that she realized she was crying. She didn’t have time for the self-indulgence of tears. Besides, she’d been naive to think she and Austin could stay put, that their past wouldn’t catch up to them.

  Hastily wiping her face, she surveyed the top of her dresser with a practiced eye, grabbing only the necessities: the almost empty bottle of her favorite perfume, the framed handprint Austin had given her for Mother’s Day a few years back, and her jewelry box. Her bedroom door slammed against the wall and she whirled around. Nick stood in the doorway, his expression so hard she barely recognized him.

  Heart pounding, she schooled her expression and breezed past him to dump the items into the suitcase. “I asked you to go. This is still my house and—”

  “You’re right, this is your house, so how can you just leave it? Did something happen at work? Did you and Britney get into a fight?”

  As much as she hated leaving Britney without a word, that couldn’t be helped now. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  Opening her top dresser drawer, she gasped when he yanked her back and slammed it shut, hard enough to make the entire thing shake. “Damn it, what’s going on?”

  “We have to leave,” she told him shakily. “I don’t have a choice.”

  “We all have choices.”

  She laughed, but the sound was hollow. “Not everyone.”

  Because he was still in her way, she gave up on emptying her dresser, and instead walked over to her cramped closet. Taking as many items as she could, she folded them over her arm and shoved them into the suitcase, hangers and all. She wondered if there was some way she could squeeze Austin’s bike into the trunk. Or maybe tie it on top of the roof?

  Grabbing her shoulders, Nick spun her around to face him, his fingers digging into her. “If you’re in trouble, tell me so I can help.”

  “You can’t help me!” She threw her arms up to break his hold. “Don’t you get that? I’m not some helpless waif who needs a big strong man to protect me. And I’m far from the sweet, innocent woman you want me to be.”

  His jaw worked as he gritted his teeth. “I don’t want you to be anything but who you are.”

  “That’s just it,” she cried, using both hands to push him back a step. “You want to know me?” She shoved him again. “Here it is—I’m a liar.” The next shove lacked the heat of the first two. “I’m nothing but a liar,” she said, her voice breaking. “And as always, those lies are catching up with me. My past is catching up with me.”

  He reached for her, but she backed away. “Faith—”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “What?”

  “That’s not my real name,” she said, unable to stand the weight of her deception any longer. “My name, my real name, is Lynne Addison. What I told you about my marriage, about what happened to Austin, that was all true, but the rest…” Emotion clogged her throat. “I’m sorry.”

  He looked dumbstruck. “Why?”

  “To protect my son. But it didn’t work. He found us. Again.”

  “Who? Austin’s father?”

  Nodding, she sank onto the bed and rubbed her burning, gritty eyes. “He hired a private investigator. She wants to take us back to New York. But I can’t let Austin return there. I won’t.”

  Nick crouched in front of her. “Let’s back up for a minute. Where’s this P.I. now?”

  A hot flush of shame crept up Faith’s neck. “In the salon. When she told me who she was, what she wanted I—I panicked and I locked her in
the closet,” she finished in a rush.

  “You attacked her?” he asked after a long moment.

  She twisted her fingers together. “I didn’t hurt her. I just sort of…sprayed her in the face with hair spray then…pushed her into the closet. I swear I didn’t hurt her—”

  “And of course I should believe you because so far you’ve been so honest, right?”

  She winced. “She’s fine. But I can’t take the chance of someone finding her before we leave. If Britney goes back to the salon tonight…” Her eyes widened when he took out his cell phone. “What are you doing?”

  He shot her a searing look. “I’m calling the station so someone can go check—”

  “No!” She leaped at him, managing to take him by surprise and to knock the phone onto the floor. Scrambling after it, she shut it off, clutching it to her chest. “You can’t do that. Please, you can’t let her send us back.”

  When he spoke again, his voice was calm. Soothing. “No one’s going to make you go back. Even if the P.I. was hired by your ex-husband, I can’t believe any court would allow that bastard so much as visitation rights with Austin after being convicted—”

  “He was never convicted,” she said, her heart pounding so hard she was afraid it would burst out of her chest.

  “You told me he went to trial…but you never told me he was convicted, did you?” Nick said thoughtfully, as if recalling their conversation about her past. Raking a hand through his hair, he began to pace, his movements stiff with anger. At the window, he faced her, the setting sun behind him. Shadows played across his face, hiding his expression. “What else didn’t you tell me?”

  Lowering her arm, she let the cell phone slip out of her sweaty hand and onto the bed. She didn’t want to reveal the full extent of her deception, of what she was capable of. But really, what did it matter if he knew the truth now? Even if by some miracle they could stay in Kingsville, there was no way Nick could look past her sins. She’d been such a fool to hope for more than someone like her deserved.

  “I didn’t tell you so many things,” she admitted, forcing herself to meet his eyes.