by Kate Davies
“Don’t worry,” he replied, urging her inside. “Your car will be fine here.” He circled the vehicle and slid behind the wheel. With a twist of his wrist, the SUV rumbled to life.
Jessica snapped on her seat belt and settled back against the seat. He hadn’t really answered her question, but Jessica realized she didn’t exactly mind. After the conflict this afternoon, it felt wonderful to let someone else be in charge, if only for a little while.
She turned to look at Tom, reveling in the strong lines of his profile. He tilted his head in her direction, a question lurking in his eyes.
Jessica nodded. “Drive on, my good man.”
With an answering grin, he backed out of the parking spot and headed for the main road.
A chill wind teased the edges of Jessica’s collar, prompting her to tuck her scarf more tightly around her neck. Tom’s hand rested casually on her shoulder, his thumb idly circling patterns on her coat as they walked down the almost-empty sidewalk. That warmed her up almost as much as the thick wool scarf.
“Seattle is beautiful at night,” she commented, glancing up at Tom. The glow of a streetlight cast a pattern of light and shadows on his face as they passed underneath.
He smiled. “I thought you needed a change of scenery.”
“I did.” They walked in silence for a while, peering in shop windows. Most of the stores on the waterfront were closed up tight. There was little foot traffic in the chilly twilight. Cars sped by on the street beside them, hurrying to the ferry or continuing uphill to the heart of the city.
“Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe,” Jessica read, squinting at the sign above the window. “One of my favorites.”
“We’ll have to come back when it’s open,” Tom replied.
The silence wrapped around them as they continued to walk. Jessica slid a glance at Tom. “Will we?”
He turned his head sideways, his expression unreadable. A muscle worked in his jaw. Then he nodded at a building down the block. “Let’s get some chowder and watch the gulls,” he said, walking more briskly as they approached the dockside restaurant.
Jessica stepped up her pace, increasing her stride to keep up with Tom. As usual, he was avoiding the issue by changing the subject. But it was past seven and food did sound enticing.
Tom steered her into the covered seating area and stepped up to the counter to place their orders. She picked a table overlooking the water. Black waves churned against the pilings below. A heat lamp glowed orange above her seat and she shivered in the contrast of electric warmth and winter chill.
“I hope you like chowder,” Tom said, appearing at her elbow with a tray. “When they say large, they mean large.”
Jessica lifted her bowl off the tray and sniffed appreciatively. “Looks great.”
Tom quickly distributed utensils, napkins, crackers and colas, depositing a big plate of fish and chips in the middle of the table. “Just in case the chowder isn’t filling enough,” he explained.
“Of course,” Jessica said, digging in to the thick, creamy chowder. She groaned, closing her eyes in ecstasy as the flavor hit her tongue. “Amazing,” she sighed.
Tom cleared his throat and busied himself with unwrapping a straw.
Jessica was scraping the last of her chowder from the bowl when Tom spoke again. “You should know that you handled that situation today beautifully.”
“It sure didn’t feel like it,” she said.
Tom nodded, deep blue eyes fixed on her face. “Absolutely. Calm, confident, but willing to let the student save face. Believe me, you would be amazed at how many teachers are so intent on winning that they end up making it worse.”
“I hope Amber decides to be in the play. It might be harder for me, but I really want her to participate. It’s obvious that drama is important to her.”
“And what about you?” Tom paused as Jessica let silence fill the space between them. When it became evident that she wasn’t going to answer, he persisted. “It was pretty obvious that first day you would have rather gone in for a root canal than direct this show. Have you changed your mind yet?”
“I don’t know.” Jessica unwrapped a packet of saltines and began snapping off bits, tossing them to the gulls that hovered just at the edge of the seating area. “I once promised myself I would never set foot in a theater again. Now that I have though, it’s not as bad as I expected.”
Tom crossed his arms and sat back, eyebrows raised. “Sounds like an interesting story.”
“Believe me, it’s not.” At his disbelieving snort, she sighed. “Okay, I might as well tell you. But this goes no further, understand?”
Tom lifted three fingers in the traditional Boy Scout salute and motioned for her to continue.
“Sophomore year.” Horrified, she heard her own voice crack, and cleared her throat before she continued. “Against my better judgment, I auditioned for the school play.”
“Better judgment?” Tom echoed, a crinkle between his eyes. The yellow glow of the heat lamp illuminated his confusion.
Jessica sighed. “My parents always wanted me to be tops in everything—class valedictorian, most popular, most talented. Never mind that I wasn’t really interested in those things. I had some great friends, a solid GPA, and I loved reading and writing, but none of those things were enough for them.”
“So why did you audition?”
“I guess I wanted to make them proud of me. Heaven knows that wasn’t a frequent occurrence. Amazingly, I got a part—just an extra, but you would have thought I was the star, the way Mother carried on. She practically took out an ad in the local paper.”
She fell silent, picking at a loose string on the scarf around her neck.
“What show was it?” Tom prodded.
Jessica laughed. “Romeo and Juliet, if you can believe it. I was one of the dancing women in the party scene. Anyway, opening night rolled around, and my parents had bought out the entire front row. All the relatives, all their friends. I’d finally done something to make them proud.”
She glanced at the hovering seagulls, dancing on the brisk wind. “Mom wanted to get a picture of me in the balcony. You know, pretend I was Juliet. Just being in the show wasn’t quite good enough. So I sneaked onstage and climbed up. I was standing there, in my fancy dress, flashbulbs going off like I was royalty, and the director saw me and yelled. I was so startled that I…”
“What?” Tom prompted.
She shrugged. “I fell. Right off the balcony, in front of a standing room only crowd. Broke my ankle, destroyed the set, and got kicked out of the show.”
“Wow. You were one busy extra.”
Jessica giggled at that. “I think it’s called upstaging.”
“I can see it now. ‘Romeo, Romeo, aaaaaah—boom!’”
Jessica smacked him on the arm. “At the time, I didn’t see any humor in the situation. Neither did my mother. The rest of the school did though.” She fell silent, remembering the embarrassment, the merciless teasing and the familiar ache of her mother’s disappointment.
“So that would explain your reaction when I told you that you’d be directing the spring play.”
“I hadn’t been in a theater for over ten years.”
“Your mom must be pleased. She finally has a daughter in show biz.”
“As if.” Jessica laughed self-consciously. “They’re not particularly interested in anything related to my job.”
Tom frowned. “Why in the world not? You’re really good at what you do.”
“Thanks.” A warm, liquid feeling welled up in her chest, soothing the bitter ache of disappointment. “Truth is, I’m still not living up to their expectations. I’m just a substitute teacher in a suburban high school. I should be a high-powered executive with an expense account and my own administrative staff. I’m wasting my natural ability on a bunch of punks.”
Tom reached over and placed his hand on top of hers, and the warm feeling overflowed until she tingled from head to toe. “I hope you know that’s no
t true.”
Jessica smiled a little shakily. “I take pretty much everything they say these days with a grain of salt.”
With his free hand Tom picked up the saltshaker and handed it to her. “I think you need more than a grain with their attitude.”
Jessica laughed. Intellectually, she knew she couldn’t sit around waiting for her parents to change. They had disapproved of most of her choices for as long as she could remember. But somehow, talking with Tom about it seemed to take the sting away, reminding her that their attitude was their problem, not hers.
Jessica sat quietly, toying with the straw in her half-empty cup. She propped her chin in the palm of her hand and studied the man sitting across from her.
He was quiet, yet fiercely devoted to his job. He hid a delightful sense of humor beneath a calm exterior. He approached life with a cool demeanor, but set her on fire with his passionate kisses.
Tom Cameron was a study in contrasts, and there was nothing Jessica wanted more than to continue studying him.
She swallowed, panic rising in her throat. She didn’t want to be attracted to him. She had obligations, goals, plans, and a relationship would only get in the way. But she couldn’t keep denying it, even to herself. She wanted to be with Tom.
Everything about him intrigued her, from his extraordinary good looks to his dedication to his job. Even though she’d only known him a short time, anyone who spent any time with him could tell how much he cared about the students under his protection. And she finally admitted that she wanted to find out just what made him tick.
“So what about you?” she asked suddenly. “Any deep, dark secrets to share?”
Tom pulled back, tucking both his hands into his jacket pockets as though taken with a sudden chill. His eyes took on a shadowed look.
Puzzled, Jessica tried again. “Okay, forget secrets. How about why you picked school security?”
“You mean, why am I just a rent-a-cop?” It was stated flatly, in an almost monotone voice.
“Well, no, actually—” She got no further before he cut her off.
“Four years ago I was a police officer. And because of that, two kids are dead.”
Chapter Eight
Tom studied Jessica, waiting for the reaction that typically followed that announcement. Not that he told many people about the incident. Once the press backed off and the rumors died down, it wasn’t as if it was a normal topic of conversation.
But the few people he’d trusted with the truth since had reacted with horror and revulsion. He learned early on to keep it buried deep.
So why had he blurted it out to Jessica now?
Her face was calm. The only visible sign of her reaction was a slight widening of the eyes. If she could keep that poker face in the classroom, she would definitely be a great teacher.
“Dead?” she repeated finally. “What do you mean?”
Tom sighed, shoving a hand through his hair in a rough gesture. In for a penny, in for a pound. Might as well tell her everything. The revulsion would follow soon enough.
“Like I said, four years ago, I was a cop…”
The night air was thick and humid, still holding vestiges of the heat wave that had suffocated southern Oregon for over a week. Tom plucked the sweating water bottle out of the cup holder and gulped down half its contents in one swallow. The window was open just a crack in the vain hopes of catching an errant breeze—so far, he’d had no luck.
He’d been patrolling the streets of town for over half his shift with no incidents to speak of. Even the kids were too worn out by the heat to do more than loiter. A few more hours, then he could head home, sit in front of the A/C for a while and then crawl into bed. With the heat making sleep difficult, maybe Carleen would even be waiting up for once.
The radio crackled to life, and he stifled a groan as he reached for the mouthpiece. “Cameron,” he reported.
“All available patrols, D.V. in progress, 807 Forest.”
He gave his ID number, set the radio back in the cradle and switched on his turn signal. He was the closest of the patrolling officers, so he would be on his own until backup arrived.
Of all the scenarios faced by cops, domestic violence calls were the most unpredictable. You never knew when someone would go ballistic in the name of love.
He could hear the shouting from two blocks over. He sped up, pulled the car over to the side of the road and jumped out. With a hand on his weapon, he walked swiftly toward the open front door.
The shouting intensified as he approached the small house. Stepping to the side of the doorframe, he peered inside. A girl cowered on the dingy couch, arms over her head in a protective gesture. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, seventeen, way too thin and wearing way too much makeup.
She screamed when she saw him, before he had a chance to flash his badge. “I’m a police officer, miss,” he yelled over the din. “Is everything okay?”
“You called the cops?” A boy of about the same age stormed into view. “You lousy bitch!” He backhanded her so hard she fell sideways, sinking into the soft cushions of the couch.
Tom tightened his grip on his gun, schooling his features to remain calm. “Hands off, kid. Step away from the couch.”
The girl started screaming again, and Tom’s concentration was split for a moment. A flash of silver caught his eye and he turned to see the barrel of a gun whipping around to point at the girl. “Drop it!” he yelled, but it was too late.
The boy pulled the trigger and Tom fired a second later, and when it was over, two kids were bleeding their lives away in the suffocating heat of midnight.
“Wow.”
Tom sat back, studying Jessica’s face intently. She looked stunned, maybe saddened, but not horrified. A dim spark of hope flickered in his chest. Maybe this time the telling wouldn’t end in rejection. But as soon as he identified the wish he squashed it down. The rest of the story would leave her despising him, like all the rest.
Or pitying him. God help him, that would be even worse.
Jessica clasped her hands together on the rough tabletop. Tom itched to reach over and cover her hands with his. Instead, he shoved them deeper into his fleece-lined pockets.
“What happened next?” Her voice was soft, tender, a balm to his aching heart.
Tom shrugged, pulling his gaze away from her face and staring blindly into the darkness. “There was the usual inquiry. I was placed on departmental leave while the investigation took place. I was never charged with anything, but both families blamed me for the deaths. And the press had a field day with the whole thing too. If I hadn’t escalated the situation, the kids would still be alive.”
“Or she’d be dead and he’d be in jail,” Jessica said.
“Well, we’ll never know.” He was silent for a moment, then continued. “At the end of the whole mess, I was strongly encouraged to resign. Too much bad press, too many unanswered questions. I took the hint and turned in my badge.”
“And how did you end up here?”
Tom stirred the watery ice at the bottom of his soda cup. “The resignation was followed by divorce proceedings. I didn’t have any ties to the area after that, so I moved to Western Washington to be near family. My sister and her husband and kids,” he clarified. “I worked various security jobs until the job opened up at Summit last year. The rest is history.”
“Divorce?”
“Married three years, divorced four. No kids.”
“But right after—”
Tom cut her off. “A teen-killing ex-cop wasn’t her idea of a perfect mate. In the long run, it was probably for the best.”
It hadn’t felt like that at the time though. He’d fallen deeper and deeper into the nightmare, and in the end she’d walked away instead of reaching out a hand to pick him up.
“So much for better or worse,” Jessica muttered.
Tom cast a startled glance in her direction. Other than his sister, most people he knew had taken Carleen’s side. The months
of negative publicity and hovering doubts had cast a long shadow, even tainting her career opportunities as a rising star in the legal world. He’d been dead weight. Who could blame her for cutting him loose?
But judging from Jessica’s glower, that’s exactly what she was doing. For the first time in ages, the tight band around his heart loosened just the tiniest bit.
“Sounds like she was pretty self-centered, if you ask me,” Jessica said. “What kind of a wife leaves her husband at a time like that?”
Tom looked across the table at Jessica. He couldn’t imagine her walking out in a time of crisis. Today’s battle had proved that she would stand up to a challenge even when she was quaking on the inside. She was the type who would gladly fight for the people she loved.
He shoved the thought down almost as quickly as it surfaced. Maybe that was true about Jessica, but he certainly wasn’t someone she loved. And considering his past and her future plans, he never would be.
Until half an hour ago, Jessica didn’t even know Tom had been married before. Now, she was ready to track down his ex-wife and knock some sense into her.
And she didn’t even know the woman’s name.
But really, how could anyone be so cruel? He was obviously still in pain over the shooting, even four years later. Anyone could see that he carried the guilt and the questions with him every day. And for his wife to walk out in the middle of the whole mess had to have just been like salt in the wound.
His stoic exterior made so much more sense now. Anyone who had been through the wringer like he had would do whatever necessary to protect himself.
But maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to protect himself around her any more. He obviously felt comfortable enough with her to share such a painful memory.
Jessica’s breath caught in her chest. His trust was both a gift and a responsibility, and she wanted more than anything to be worthy of that trust. Because if she hadn’t been falling for him before this conversation, she certainly was falling hard now.
