Mystic Park

by Regina Hart

  Alonzo’s temper stirred at the criticism against Doreen’s son, who also was Alonzo’s friend. “Paul didn’t want Ean to know he was sick. You’re aware of that.”

  “You’re making excuses for him?”

  “That’s not an excuse. It’s a fact. And I was here, Leo. You know that as well.”

  He’d returned to Trinity Falls after his high school friend wrote and told him he was dying. But he’d returned for Paul, not Doreen. He’d spent a lot of time with Paul. It was during one of those times that Paul had asked whether Alonzo had left Trinity Falls because he loved Doreen.

  Leonard stood and paced the room. “What makes you think you’re worthy of Doreen?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” Alonzo struggled to maintain his implacable expression. His temper was rising. He tracked the other man’s progress past his desk to his dark wood bookcase tucked into the corner near his window. Alonzo maintained his silence.

  “I can tell you’re hiding something.” Leonard turned to face him. “What is it?”

  Enough was enough. He didn’t know Leonard’s game and he wasn’t playing it. Alonzo stood. “I will marry Doreen. I won’t answer your questions. Get out of my office.”

  “You’re right. You don’t have to tell me.” Leonard wandered to the door. He stood with his hand on the knob and looked back to Alonzo. “But I’ll figure it out. Whatever you don’t want to tell me, I’m sure Doreen would be interested in knowing.”

  Alonzo watched Leonard walk through the open door. His features remained impassive but his temper burned.

  Does Leonard know something about my past? He acted as though he did.

  What about Doreen? If Leonard told her about his past, would she turn away from him? Terror iced his temper. Alonzo sank onto his chair. He’d tried to convince himself to leave his past behind, but now Leonard threatened that. Should he tell Doreen himself or continue to hope his past would remain a secret?

  Alonzo knocked hesitantly on Darius’s open office door in The Trinity Falls Monitor office Friday afternoon. He waited for the newspaper man to look up. “How are you settling into your new office?”

  Darius spun his executive chair away from his computer monitor. A welcoming smile brightened his movie star good looks. His right arm swept the room, encompassing the stacks of files, competitor newspapers, and reports spread across the top of every desk and file cabinet in his office. “I’d say I’m pretty well settled in.”

  “They might have some trouble getting you back out.” Alonzo considered the organized clutter that had invaded his friend’s office. The other man looked pretty busy. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea. He took a step back, searching for a graceful exit.

  Darius gestured toward one of the two gray padded visitor’s chairs in front of his wood laminate desk. “Have a seat, Sheriff. What’s on your mind?”

  He should have known the former newspaper reporter would sense a cover-up. Darius’s expression sobered when Alonzo pulled the door shut.

  He crossed the room and took a seat. Did Darius realize his office smelled like newsprint? Separate from the clutter on his desk were personal mementos. On a shelf above his computer monitor stood a photo of Darius, posing with Ean and Quincy after a Heritage High School football game. On the far side of his keyboard was a framed photograph of Peyton sitting on the lip around Wishing Lake. She was laughing into the sun and her copper curls were bouncing on a breeze.

  Alonzo turned to Darius. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “What’s troubling you?” Darius held Alonzo’s gaze as though the newsman could read his mind.

  Alonzo drew a deep breath, exhaled, and filled his lungs again. “I don’t think I’m good enough for Doreen.”

  Darius didn’t answer right away. Alonzo struggled to remain still under the other man’s steady scrutiny. “When did you decide that?”

  He’d expected Darius to ask why he felt he wasn’t good enough for Doreen. The former reporter’s question caught him off guard. “It was after we started planning the wedding. Doreen said she wasn’t going to wear white, of course, because ours will be her second marriage. I started thinking about the things I’ve done as a law enforcement officer.”

  “You think you’re not good enough for Doreen because you’re in law enforcement?”

  “I did some things while I was a metropolitan police officer.” The words burned his throat like acid and stirred memories he prayed every night to forget.

  “Have you spoken with Doreen?”

  “No.” Alonzo answered even before Darius had finished asking.

  “I didn’t think so.” Darius leaned into his desk, holding Alonzo’s gaze. “I have no idea what you’ve been through or what you’re going through now. I don’t know the man you were. But I’m proud to call the man you are a friend. And I know that man makes Doreen happy.”

  It would be so easy to accept Darius’s words. “But as you said, you don’t know what I’ve done.”

  “Alonzo, whatever’s weighing on your mind may need more than a friendly conversation.” Darius searched Alonzo’s expression. “Have you considered speaking with a priest?”

  The idea of taking his demons to the church turned his blood cold. But perhaps Darius had a point. Wasn’t he looking for absolution? Would the church grant it to someone with his past? He had to find the courage to try. It was his only hope of finding happiness with Doreen.

  Alonzo stood. “I think I do need some sort of spiritual counsel.”

  Darius rose also. “You should also speak with Doreen. She’s the only one who can tell you whether you’re good enough to be a part of her life.”

  “You’re both basing your judgments on who you think I am.” It tormented him that he didn’t have the courage to tell them the truth.

  Darius spread his arms. “Alonzo, we can only measure the person you allow us to see. And that person is a good and generous friend.” A grin flashed across his face. “And perhaps a talented actor.”

  Alonzo was surprised he could smile. “I’ll take your advice about speaking with my priest.”

  He shook Darius’s hand before leaving. Absolution wasn’t supposed to be easy. Wasn’t the pain part of the penance? He’d find the strength to get through it as long as in the end, he could be with Doreen.

  “Good morning, Father. Thanks for meeting with me.” Alonzo shook Father Steven Meadows’s hand Saturday. The priest had the callous, rough palm of a hardworking man.

  Father Steven had been assigned to their parish about five years earlier, a year before Alonzo had returned to Trinity Falls. He was of average height with a wiry build. His full head of hair was salt-and-pepper gray. But his smooth nutmeg skin and quiet energy made it difficult to pinpoint his age.

  “Of course, Sheriff.” Father Steven led Alonzo to the two blue-cushioned armchairs in a corner of his spacious rectory. “How are your wedding plans coming?”

  “Fine, Father.” Alonzo took the seat the priest gestured toward. It was a comfortable chair, but he was too tense to relax. “Benita’s worked miracles getting everything ready in such a short time.”

  “Today is May sixteenth.” Father Steven settled onto the other chair. “Your wedding is exactly five weeks from today.”

  Alonzo inclined his head. “Everything’s in place. Our last critical task was identifying groomsmen and bridesmaids.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Juan, Jack, and Darius agreed to stand with me. Megan, Ramona, and Audra will be Doreen’s bridesmaids.”

  “Excellent choices.” Father Steven nodded. Curiosity gleamed in the older man’s dark brown eyes even as he waited patiently for Alonzo to speak his mind. But Alonzo felt a need to stall.

  He broke eye contact and looked around the large room with its beige carpeting. Paintings and posters dressed the off-white walls with images of religious figures praying, walking, or offering comfort. The vivid artwork added color to the otherwise monochromatic space. A wall of bookshelves lined o
ne side of the room, stacked with theological and philosophical texts, including Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s A Knock at Midnight. On the other side, a rectangular maple wood conference table stood surrounded by six matching chairs. In its center, a thick white candle sat on a green doily.

  Alonzo returned his attention to the patient priest. “I need your advice, Father.”

  “How can I help you, Alonzo?”

  He stood to pace away from the coffee tables and armchairs. “I’m not good enough to marry Doreen.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “She’s dedicated most of her life to improving our community.” Alonzo paused, his back to Father Steven. “She’s been a positive, nurturing force. But in the line of duty, I’ve done things I regret.”

  “Like what?”

  Alonzo’s shoulders slumped. The priest was going to make him say it. “I’ve killed people.”

  There was a beat of silence as though the priest was absorbing Alonzo’s words. “Why have you come to see me? What can I do for you?”

  “I’ve felt, the closer we get to our wedding day the more my past comes between Doreen and me.” Alonzo paced again.

  “Has Doreen done something to make you feel this way?”

  “No, she doesn’t know about that part of my past.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “But every time I think of all the good she’s done and is doing, I feel as though the blood I’ve spilled is coming between us.”

  “You committed these acts in defense of others.” Father Steven’s quiet voice didn’t reveal his feelings about Alonzo’s actions.

  “That doesn’t make the people any less dead, Father.” Alonzo flexed his shoulders to ease the strain tightening his muscles. What was the priest’s judgment? Did he agree that Alonzo didn’t deserve Doreen? Should he call off their wedding and leave her life?

  “The job you chose is a courageous and selfless profession, Alonzo. You put your life in jeopardy to protect us and our community every day.”

  “That’s my point, Father.” Alonzo turned toward the priest. “I’m supposed to protect lives, not take them.”

  “Ecclesiastes, ‘To every thing there is a season and a time to every purpose under Heaven.’” Father Steven held Alonzo’s gaze as he recited the verse. “‘A time to kill and a time to heal.’”

  “‘A time to break down and a time to build up.’” Alonzo sighed as he concluded the quote. “Doreen’s dedicated her life to building, but my career has been spent breaking down.”

  Father Steven leaned forward on his chair, still holding Alonzo’s gaze. “A good man—or woman—doesn’t seek to end someone’s life. But sometimes to protect one life, we’re forced to end another’s.”

  Alonzo crossed back to the armchairs and reclaimed his seat. “But do I have the right to bring this kind of darkness into Doreen’s life? Despite my past, am I good enough for her?”

  “The only person who can give you an accurate answer to that question is Doreen.” Father Steven sat back on his chair. “Ask her.”

  Alonzo drew a deep, bracing breath, then exhaled. The scent of lavender filled his senses. He pushed himself to his feet. “Thanks for your time, Father.”

  He shook the priest’s hand again, then turned to leave. The what-ifs plagued him with every step that carried him from the room. What if he never told Doreen about his past? What if he found the courage to tell her about the people he’d killed?

  What if, in response to his past, Doreen returned his ring and asked never to see him again?

  CHAPTER 24

  Books & Bakery was packed Tuesday afternoon. Benita carried her turkey-and-cheddar-on-wheat-bread sandwich to the last empty seat at the food counter. “Welcome home, Quincy. I heard you were in town for Doreen and Alonzo’s wedding.”

  Quincy shifted on the bar stool beside her to better meet Benita’s gaze. “And I heard you’re the one keeping the ceremony on schedule.”

  Benita glanced around. “Where’s Ramona? Am I taking her seat?”

  “No, she’s meeting some friends from the mayor’s office for lunch.” Quincy returned to his roast beef on rye. An empty soup bowl had been shoved to a corner of his tray.

  Some of the pleasures of eating at Books & Bakery were the scents. The confection sugar, chocolate, and freshly baked bread coexisted nicely with the vegetables, soups, and coffees.

  Benita bit into her sandwich, enjoying the rich taste of homemade bread. As she chewed, her eyes roamed the familiar and not-as-familiar faces around the café. The low murmur of multiple conversations and bubbles of laughter surrounded her. It wasn’t any wonder people flocked here for breakfast, lunch, and snacks: good food, good atmosphere, and great prices.

  Benita swallowed her sandwich and turned back to Quincy. “How have you and Ramona settled into Philadelphia? You must love it there.”

  “I miss Trinity Falls.” Quincy’s voice was flat.

  “You’re kidding.” Benita gave him a wide-eyed stare. “You now live in the fifth-largest city in the country and you’re telling me you miss little Trinity Falls? Why?”

  “I have friends here.”

  “You’ll make friends in Philadelphia.” Although after three years in L.A., she still didn’t have friendships that were nearly as close as the ones she’d left behind. In Trinity Falls, you could pick up friendships where you’d left off. In L.A., she had trouble even forming them.

  “Philadelphia isn’t Trinity Falls.”

  Benita frowned. Quincy had lost her. “Isn’t that the point? Isn’t that the reason you left Trinity Falls and accepted the faculty position at the University of Pennsylvania?”

  “Not exactly.” Quincy shrugged an impatient shoulder. “I thought a faculty position at Penn would offer more research opportunities.”

  “I’m sure it does.” Benita felt an obligation to defend Ramona’s desire for something more than what this small town had to offer—although it seemed that Ramona was hesitant about staying in Philadelphia. “It also has cultural attractions and opportunities you’d never find in Trinity Falls.”

  “We have our own cultural attractions.” Quincy adopted a stubborn tone. “We have beautiful parks here.”

  “Philadelphia has parks, too. And four major league sports franchises.”

  Quincy snorted. “I’m a fan of the Cleveland teams. For that matter, I’d rather attend a Heritage High or TFU game. At least I care about those teams.”

  “I don’t understand you, Quincy.” Benita shook her head. “You finally make it out of Trinity Falls, get a job at a prestigious university, and you’re complaining that you want to come back?”

  “Ean did it.” Quincy gave her a smug look. “He gave up his partnership at a well-renowned law firm in New York and returned to Trinity Falls.”

  “I never understood that, either.”

  “Trinity Falls is home, Benita.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to live here.” She waved a hand to encompass the bookstore. “If you get homesick, you can return for a visit.”

  Quincy searched Benita’s features. She wondered what her high school friend was looking for. “How happy are you in Los Angeles?”

  Benita relaxed into a smile. “Palm trees, beaches, perfect weather. What’s not to love about L.A.?”

  “I can think of a few things.” Quincy sipped his soda. “Earthquakes, smog, water shortages.”

  Benita gave him a pitying look. “Hollywood, Universal Studios, Disneyland.”

  Quincy counted off on his fingers. “High cost of living, high crime, congested freeways.”

  Benita scowled. “I have a great apartment—”

  “Here you could afford a house.”

  Benita continued, ignoring Quincy’s interruption. “And a successful career—”

  “Which you could obviously manage from anywhere.”

  Benita bit back a sigh of irritation. “I’m not the one who wants to return to Trinity Falls.”

  “Maybe you should.” He shrugged w
ide shoulders. “You have family, friends, and a boyfriend here. They’re more valuable than professional sports franchises or cultural attractions.”

  Quincy’s words had the tug of truth. Benita fought it.

  “Trinity Falls bores me.” Although it hadn’t bored her during this visit. Between planning Doreen and Alonzo’s wedding, helping Vaughn produce his play, and coordinating the university dinner for her great-aunt, her schedule had been frantic—and interesting and fun. The realization shocked her.

  “When was the last time you attended an NBA game in Los Angeles?” Quincy challenged her with a look.

  Benita hesitated. “I’ve never been to a game.”

  “Why not?”

  Benita shrugged a shoulder. She stared at what was left of her sandwich. “I didn’t want to go by myself.”

  “That makes a difference, doesn’t it?” Quincy stood to leave.

  “But you have Ramona. The two of you can tour Philadelphia together.” Just like she and Vaughn could attend an NBA game together.

  “That part’s been a lot of fun. But Ramona and I don’t have to live in Philadelphia to explore it.”

  Benita mulled that over. The university professor had a point. Quincy and Ramona didn’t have to move to Philadelphia to enjoy the city’s attractions. The City of Brotherly Love was within driving distance of Trinity Falls, albeit a long drive.

  “I think Ramona could love Philadelphia.” Benita looked up at Quincy. “Isn’t it worth at least an effort for her sake?” Why couldn’t Quincy and Vaughn at least try the big city lifestyle for the women they loved?

  Quincy lifted his tray from the counter. “I haven’t told Ramona that I want to come back to Trinity Falls. I’m waiting for the right time.”

  Ramona would probably take to the big city like a duck to water, if given the chance. Growing up, that’s one of the few things she’d had in common with the other woman—an impatience to escape from their small hometown.

  “I hope the two of you can work it out.” Benita reached out to squeeze Quincy’s thick forearm.