Rebecca had known the kids would talk, but the reality of hearing what they were saying to Katie was wrenching.
And now Jake was in jail again, for hurting someone. Never mind it was Avery Dillenger.
"We talked about this before, Katie. About how this might happen."
"Yeah, but ... it's just so hard, Mom. I've still got some friends, but even they don't want to come over, and around here there's nobody to talk to play with but you guys and half the time you're ignoring each other, so...” She looked up and met Rebecca's eyes. “It's kind of hard to hang around people who don't talk to each other, Mom. I never know what to say or do."
Shame filled Rebecca for being so absorbed with her own thoughts and feelings that she hadn't noticed what a hard time Katie was having. “Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how much ... all of this was affecting you. I thought you were happy living with Jake."
"I am. Most of the time, anyway. He's a lot of fun. I even wish—"
"Wish what, baby?"
"Forget it. It's stupid."
"Katie,” Rebecca said gently, and ran a hand over her daughter's still baby-fine hair. “Nothing you could say would be stupid. You know that. No wrong answers, remember?” It was their pact. Whenever they needed to discuss something important, they would both declare, “no wrong answers” and then be free to put all their thoughts and feelings on the table without feeling stupid.
"I wish Jake was my dad."
Rebecca felt as if she'd been doused with cold water. For the longest time, all she could do was sit there, feeling heartsick and speechless. “Katie, I don't know what to say."
"I just want to be part of a real family, you know?"
"I know, sweetheart.” So do I. But Jake doesn't. “I wish there was something I could do to make all of this easier on you."
"You love him, don't you, Mom?"
"Yes, I do."
"So do I.” Katie smiled, and it broke Rebecca's heart to know Jake planned to abandon this child who loved him enough to want to stay with him, even in the face of her classmates’ shunning. How could he throw over something so precious for something so selfish as his freedom?
What parent didn't dream of ‘escaping from it all’ at the end of a rough day? God knew she had, more times than she could count. But, unlike her own parents, she'd hung in there, day after day, night after lonely night, accepting the bad with the good, just doing the best job she could.
And if she could do it, Jake could damn well do it, too.
She believed in him. Katie believed in him. His boss believed in him.
What else did the man need?
Chapter Twenty-One
Rebecca was back at the police station first thing in the morning. Even though this was her home town, and she knew most of the station personnel by sight from the library if not by name, her first few moments after she walked through the front door were unsettling. She couldn't help but remember when she'd gone to visit Jake in that jail in Wyoming, how she'd been leered at, patronized and turned away because she wasn't on his ‘visitor's list'.
She squared her shoulders, smoothed her hands down her cream-colored business suit skirt, then reached into her overcoat pocket to rub her thumb against the small, unopened ivory envelope she'd placed there late last night, after finding it in Jake's wastebasket while collecting the household trash.
Reassured the letter was still there, she strode up to the desk and asked to see Jacob Donovan.
To her surprise, she was almost immediately escorted to his cell in the basement of the building. As she followed an unsmiling, unspeaking officer Savard down the steps, Rebecca's heart thumped wildly at the prospect of seeing Jake again.
At the foot of the stairs, Savard unlocked a steel door with a small mesh window at face level. “Visitor for you, Donovan,” he announced, then stepped back to let her precede him.
The jail was a grim, depressing place at best. Warner didn't have a lot of crime, so Rebecca assumed the long, windowless room that contained four small, adjacent cells was more than adequate for the town's needs. Passing the first three cells, two of which contained unmade beds, she noted each held a battered sink, toilet and cot, the latter covered with dull white sheets and a green army surplus blanket. The dull gray cement floors and walls seemed clean enough—she wouldn't have expected any less from Robert Sutter—but beneath the faint smell of disinfectant, the airless room still held the entirely too distinguishable odors of alcohol, cigarette smoke, unwashed bodies, urine, and a familiar stench Rebecca associated with the flu.
She closed her eyes for a moment to adjust to the dismal feel of the place, then opened them again to face Jake. He'd risen from his seat on his cot when he realized who his visitor was and was waiting for her, his expression far from welcoming. He looked terrible, as if he hadn't slept all night.
"You can sit in this chair while you visit, ma'am, or stand if you prefer to,” Savard intoned, pulling a cracked orange plastic chair over from the corner. He set the chair in front of Jake's cell. “I'll wait by the door until you're finished."
Rebecca looked at Savard in surprise. “You're staying?"
"Yes, ma'am. Regulations don't allow us to leave visitors alone with prisoners."
Prisoners. Rebecca hated the term, hated the invasion of her privacy, but knew better than to argue. Still, it made her feel unclean, as if she were a criminal. If this was the kind of environment and treatment Jake had had to endure for eight long years...
"Thank you,” she murmured, her manners kicking in.
Savard nodded and left to take up a post next to the door that led upstairs.
"Hello, Jake,” Rebecca said warmly, then took off her overcoat and draped in over the back of the chair.
His hard gaze roved over her suit before he asked, “They frisk you when you came in?"
She blinked, both at Jake's cold tone and the question. The idea of some stranger—or worse, an acquaintance's hands running over her body in search of weapons or contraband appalled her. “No."
"You're lucky then. I've been in places where they do strip searches on both sides."
Rebecca stared. Overnight, Jake had changed into a cold, hard man she barely recognized. The man she'd seen and feared the first day he'd come into the library. The lone wolf barely tolerating the trappings of civilization.
A caged wolf, now.
"I talked to Bob,” she said quietly, not missing the strong flare of emotion in Jake's eyes, but she wasn't going to pretend she didn't know the man just to protect Jake's stubborn ego. If he wanted to object to her friendship with Bob Sutter, he'd better be prepared to explain why. “He was going to get a warrant to search Avery Dillenger's house for the tape of us last night and tapes of any other children he might have brought into the house."
"He did. Dillenger came in around midnight."
"You're kidding? He spent the night here?"
"His lawyer came by and sprang him an hour later."
Good Lord. She'd never even thought about paying Jake's bail. No matter. Jake wouldn't have let her, anyway. He was too proud for that. “Have you called a lawyer?"
Jake snorted. “Yeah, right."
Rebecca took offense. “What's wrong with that?"
"People like me, Rebecca, get public defenders. And mine is about as worthless as the one I had in Wyoming. I think he's usually a tax lawyer."
"Then let me find you a better one. We don't have to get one from Warner."
"I don't need a lawyer taking what's left of my money, Rebecca. Or yours. We all know where this is headed."
"You can't know that! Listen, Jake—"
"I violated my parole. That's an automatic one-way ticket back to the joint to serve the rest of my seven and a half-to-fifteen year bit. If Dillenger presses charges, which, after listening to him cry for an hour, I have no doubt he plans to do, I'll be there even longer."
Rebecca stared at him as his words sunk in. “You knew this would happen all along, didn't you?"
Jake simply stared back at her, his expression inscrutable.
"But you went to Avery's anyway. For Katie, and for me."
Jake shrugged as if it didn't matter. As if nothing mattered any more. “I did what I had to. Now Dillenger's going to do what he has to. That's life."
But all Rebecca could think of was Jake, her Jake, the Jake she'd loved since she was ten, claiming all he wanted was his freedom, then giving up that lifelong dream of freedom to rescue their daughter from a man whose personal mission was to see to it that Jacob Donovan spent as much of his life as possible behind bars.
Knowing even as he punched Avery Dillenger in the nose for insulting her that this would be his reward.
Rebecca forgot all about the guard standing by the door as she stepped forward, moving as close to Jake as she could, and said, “Marry me, Jake."
"What?"
"You heard me. I want to get married."
"Rebecca, are you out of your mind?"
"No. I'm completely sane."
Jake looked at her off-white suit again, and decided she'd worn it deliberately. He swore and closed his eyes. He knew what Rebecca thought she was doing. Coming to his rescue again. If they were married, she couldn't corroborate Dillenger's testimony that Jake had decked him. But the tape the cops had confiscated would take care of that. The tape Dillenger had edited before the cops had arrived.
Oh, yeah, he'd made sure Jake knew the score on that one.
"We could do it now,” Rebecca was saying. “Get the magistrate down here and—"
"No way."
She stopped talking, looking stunned.
"Forget it, Rebecca. I'm not going to marry you."
She looked at him, hard, then swallowed and lifted her chin. Jake caught the determined glint in her eye and nearly groaned aloud, knowing a good talking to was coming. “Rebecca...” he began, but she held up a hand, shutting him down.
"I have loved you for over half of my life, Jake. I have borne you a child and made a home for you to the best of my ability. I have stood by you while you pushed me and the rest of the world away, again and again, and will continued to do so, without regret, for the rest of my natural life, if—"
"No, Rebecca. I'm telling you no."
She went silent, then searched his face slowly, her own face filling with resolve. “Then I'm walking out that door and never looking back. Do you understand? I won't be here for you when you come back the next time."
"What about Katie?"
"She loves you. And despite being teased and ostracized by her classmates over this ... this unholy situation, she wants you to come home again, as soon as you can. She misses you as much, as deeply, as I do. But if you don't want us, you need to say so now, so that we can get on with our lives. We need to find a house and build a home. With or without you. We've been living in limbo far too long."
Involuntarily, Jake stepped forward and gripped the bars between them. “Are you saying the reason you never married or moved out of your aunt's garage apartment is me?"
Rebecca's gaze never wavered. “That's correct."
Jake closed his eyes and forced himself not to lean his forehead against the cold steel bars that separated them. He'd never guessed. Hoped, sure, but never thought he had a prayer of making a life with Rebecca. Now here she was, telling him if he refused to marry her, she was walking, and taking Katie with her.
She'd do it, too. He'd seen her walk away before. She'd made up her mind she didn't want that library job and hadn't looked back once.
But Jake knew he still had nothing to offer her or Katie. Less than nothing if Dillenger had his way. If the charges stuck, he'd be going up the road again. And if anything else happened, it would be three strikes and you're out. Jake couldn't live knowing that if he screwed up one more time, even just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, Rebecca and Katie would pay the price. And with his luck, it was inevitable.
"I can't do it, Rebecca. I'm sorry."
Her determined façade wavered, exposing her deep vulnerability behind it. God, it killed him to know he was hurting her—again.
"Can't, or won't?"
If nothing else, eight years in prison had taught Jake how to lie like a pro. He looked the woman he loved dead in the eye, and lied for all he was worth. “Won't. I don't want you, Rebecca. If I did, we'd have been married years ago."
By the look in her eyes he knew he'd scored a direct hit. As she backed away from his cell, Jake nearly bent the bars between them to keep from reaching out to her. Ghostly pale, she lifted her chin and met his eyes, hers dark and wounded, but dry.
"Goodbye, Jake."
She stared at him a moment longer, then turned and snatched up her coat. As she strode toward the exit, head held high, the crack of her heels echoing like whiplashes in the cement room, Jake panicked, knowing this was it. If he let her go, he'd never see her again.
"Rebecca?"
She stopped, but didn't turn around. Jake refused to ask her to, terrified he'd see tears. Tears he'd caused, and tears he'd be helpless to do anything about. “I'll see that you get the house,” he said. It was the least he could do for her and Katie.
"Keep it,” she said, her voice colder than he'd ever heard it. So cold it even startled Savard, waiting by the door. “We don't need it."
* * * *
"Visitor to see you, Donovan."
Jake looked up in surprise from where he'd spent the past several hours, sitting on his cot, doing what he was destined to do for the rest of his life—mourning the loss of Rebecca and Katie with an ache that cut clear to his soul.
"Jake, my man, what's up?"
Watching FX approach his cell, a wide, warm smile on his face, Jake felt absurdly blessed. Jake shook his head and smiled back. “If I knew I'd tell you."
Both men remained silent as a big, burly guard pulled the orange chair from the corner and set it in front of Jake's cell. “Leave it right there, and we won't have any problems,” the guard told FX, putting his hand on his nightstick. “Got that?"
"Got it, boss,” FX said easily.
As the guard walked away, keys and cuffs jangling, FX's smile faded, warning Jake this wasn't a simple social call. FX cut one last look at the deputy, sat down, and leaned in close. “I'm not talkin’ about what's got you sittin’ here in this cozy suite at the Ritz,” he said grimly. “I'm talkin’ about that woman whose heart you done ripped out and stomped on."
Jake wrapped his hands around the bars in concern and frustrated hope. “Rebecca? She came to you?"
"Didn't have to. When she came in to serve lunch and asked me and some of the guys to help her move her stuff out of your house, it was written all over her face. You dumped her, not the other way around."
Jake swore ripely. “I told her she could have the house, FX. She doesn't want it."
"You stupid, as well as blind? That woman loves you. Why would she want to torture herself livin’ in some house reminds her every damn day you don't want her? What the fuck you got for brains, Donovan, cuttin’ loose a good woman like that?"
Jake swore and ran a hand through his hair before meeting FX's challenging glare. “I want her,” he admitted in a low, rough voice, “and Katie, too."
"No news there,” FX said dryly. “So what's holding you back?"
"Look at me, man. Look where I am. Look where I've been. I've got a record as long as my arm—"
"Juvie shit,” FX interrupted, leaning forward again. “Seems to me you've grown up a little since then.” He looked Jake in the eye. “It don't matter where you been, man. It's where you're going that counts."
"And I'm going back to hell."
"Maybe, maybe not. Word on the street is Dillenger's in a deep pile of shit.” FX cast another quick look at the cop guarding the door. Jake didn't blame him, as he'd already figured out which ones were on Dillenger's dole. Mr. Prime Snitch was babysitting him this afternoon.
He let FX know with his eyes what the score was. FX lowered his voice even more. “
This place is starting to give me the willies, man, so let me say my piece and go. You love the lady and I know she loves you. As for that little girl of yours—” When Jake opened his mouth to protest, FX cut him off with a look. “If that girl ain't yours, I'm George W."
Jake nodded. “She's mine."
"Right. That girl of yours is a real treasure, both of them are. They won't let anybody say a word against you, Jake. Little Katie's been tellin’ everyone in the shelter how you rescued her from that slimeball Dillenger. She loves you, man, and so does her mama. Most men would kill for that kind of love, and you wanna throw it all away?"
"I'm locked up, FX. They deserve a life without me."
"Brother, they ain't gonna have no life without you in it, no matter how hard they try. You got real love here and you're lettin’ it slip through your fingers. Why?"
Jake didn't have an answer for that. Not one he wanted to share with FX, anyway.
FX stood, knowing better than to offer his hand through the bars. He nodded. “Catch ya later."
Yeah, right, Jake thought, but nodded as well.
* * * *
"Donovan."
What was this, Grand Central Station? Jake thought sourly, and rolled over from where he'd been dozing since FX's visit. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, and saw Robert Sutter himself standing outside his cell.
"Rebecca asked me to give this to you.” He held up a small ivory envelope, already sliced open. Jake stared at it, recognizing it as the one he'd thrown into the wastebasket a week ago. The one from his grandmother.
"You Rebecca's errand boy now, Sutter?"
"I'm just doing the lady a favor. You want it or not?"
"You read it?"
"Nope. Just opened it for you."
They both knew he'd had to, to check for contraband. Jake made no move to accept or decline the envelope. “You know, Donovan, you've got a real attitude problem. But I'm willing to overlook that, since it appears Rebecca was right. You're an innocent man."
"Say what?"
"I've been out of town for the past week, so my mail's been piling up, but I got a real interesting court order from Wyoming while I was gone.” Sutter pulled a single sheet of folded paper from his breast pocket and offered it through the bars. While Jake read the two paragraph order for his release in stunned disbelief, Sutter continued conversationally, “Seems a Vincent Delgado confessed to killing Miss Christine Sanders two weeks ago when he was arrested for threatening to do the same to his current live-in. Apparently he saw your picture from the library rescue in the paper and started feeling the need to brag. Held a knife to his girlfriend's throat and told her he'd gotten away with murder before and didn't see any reason he couldn't do it again if she didn't see things his way. Once he let her go, she took her story straight to the police."
Jake's Return Page 22
