KRISTIN WATCHED the big man retreat to the front of the restaurant. He’d taken charge of the situation as though he’d been handling emergencies all his life. Was that what was known as a born leader? Or…or…Oh, God. Her next thought was not acceptable. Nah, he couldn’t be a cop. That just wouldn’t be fair. She wanted to like the guy.
“I like Mr. Cooper,” said Ashley very slowly, as if she read her mother’s mind. “Even though he’s bossy.”
Immediately, Kristin assessed her daughter’s expression. Bossy was not a positive description.
“I suppose you could say he’s bossy,” she repeated calmly, waiting for more.
“But in a good way,” said Ash. “He helped everybody. He told us all what to do.”
Her heart started to race. Her daughter was really talking now, and Kristin gave full credit to the dog. Quincy had been key. The shepherd continued to sit right next to a relaxed Ashley at their dark and cozy table. Perhaps Kristin was about to have her first meaningful conversation with her child since the attack.
“Tell me a little more,” Kristin encouraged.
Ashley patted her hand. “Mr. Cooper’s taking care of us, Mom. And that’s very good.”
Her newly brightened world dimmed again.
CHAPTER THREE
MR. COOPER’S TAKING CARE of us, Mom. Her daughter’s last words at the diner were not what she had expected to hear. Or wanted to hear. In the early hours of the morning following her unplanned visit to Dora’s Diner, after driving behind Rick’s vehicle at a snail’s pace when the rain had eased up, Kristin should have been sound asleep. Instead, she tossed and turned.
She punched her pillow a dozen times. She was the one Ashley needed to trust. She was the mother. The adult. The one who’d given birth to her, and the one person on earth who loved her the most. Ashley knew that. Her daughter knew she was loved. But obviously, her child had needs Kristin wasn’t meeting. And she didn’t have to be a shrink to figure it out. Ashley thought Kristin had let her down, and now she couldn’t trust her mother to keep them safe. Kristin had dropped her daughter off at the movies—at the mall—and a horrible thing had happened. Of course, Ashley and Sabrina had enjoyed Saturday matinees many times before that particular day. Kristin or Jo Anne had always been on time to pick their girls up afterward. They’d trained their daughters to call them on their cells immediately at the end of the film.
None of those reassurances mattered on that one horrible day Ashley would remember for the rest of her life. On that horrible day when Kristin hadn’t been there to protect her. And that was the bottom line for Ashley. The poor kid probably wanted—would prefer—her adoring dad. Kristin had certainly yearned for John’s help in getting Ash through this experience, wondering what advice he’d have given, what he’d have done differently.
But she didn’t have John anymore. In fact, she barely had family support. She’d been doing the best she could on her own, hoping it was enough. Now, she had doubts. She had to continue to be strong, however, for everyone’s sake.
Her parents were wonderful—she loved them dearly—but they could hardly bring themselves to believe what had happened to their only grandchild. In their midseventies, they’d hovered like a pair of dainty hummingbirds, treating Ash like breakable porcelain. In the beginning, when Kristin and Ash had stayed with them before coming to Morningstar Lake, maybe that had been okay. But it wasn’t anymore. John’s parents, so loyal and loving, called regularly but had retired to Florida. When they’d visited immediately after the event, they hadn’t been any calmer than Kristin’s parents. In the end, Kristin had somehow managed to reassure them that all would be well.
But would it? Ashley recognized Rick Cooper as someone she could trust—a strong, confident personality. She also trusted the dog. She didn’t trust her own mother.
Kristin flinched as that thought took shape, but she simply didn’t know what more to do except to live each day and be Ashley’s cheerleader. Thank goodness she’d gotten an extended leave of absence from work. Unpaid, so she’d had to sharpen her money-stretching skills, but at least her job was secure. U.S. Life Corporation wasn’t the worst company to work for, she reflected. She rolled over again, breathing deeply and evenly, trying to find silver linings and a way to fall asleep. Finally, she drifted off.
Brilliant sunlight flooded her room the next morning and woke her. Brilliant sunlight and a knock at her bedroom door. She glanced at her battery-powered clock radio. Eleven! She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept that late.
“Come on in, Ash.”
Her daughter entered and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee teased Kristin. Ash held out a mug.
“You made coffee?”
Ash shook her head. “Rick.”
“Rick? What happened to calling him Mr. Cooper? And is he here?”
Again a shake.
Kristin sank back against her pillows. “That’s a relief. I’m not even coherent yet.”
Ashley pointed toward the front of the house. “He’s on our porch.”
Kristin reached for the mug, delighted by the possibility of a conversation with Ashley. “He’ll have to wait. I need this.” She took a sip. “Mmm…it’s good.”
Ash didn’t reply, so Kristin kept the dialogue going alone. “Isn’t it awesome how clear and beautiful the day is, after yesterday’s storm?”
Ashley went to the light switch and moved it up and down. “There’s no electricity yet.”
Kristin briefly wondered how Rick had made the coffee, but before she could voice her thought, Ash waved quickly and left the room. End of conversation. But if the dog was outside, then Kristin couldn’t compete.
She shrugged and finished the drink before washing up. A shower would come later, when hot water returned. She dressed in jeans and a white jersey, then added a pair of socks and running shoes to complete her uniform for country living. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail, brushed her bangs and was set.
When she stepped outside with her empty mug, Ashley was with the dog in the yard, practicing commands, and Rick was sitting on the top step, untangling fishing line. He leaned against the wooden railing, head bent over his work, a lock of dark hair falling on his forehead. He hummed softly as he concentrated, but she didn’t recognize the tune.
He said good-morning without turning his head a fraction.
“Do you hear as well as Quincy does?” she joked, sitting on the opposite side of the step, leaning against the support post. Without waiting for a reply, she added, “Thanks for the coffee, neighbor. It hit the spot.”
“You’re welcome.” He held out a length of line, examined the knots and grunted, then resumed his work.
He was about as conversational as her daughter. “So, how’d you manage to brew it without electricity?” Exciting subject.
“Our gas grill has a burner on the side. Used my mom’s old aluminum coffeepot.”
“No wonder it tasted so delicious.”
“Is it a big enough bribe for you to help me with these tiny knots?” He opened his hands and shook his head. “Your fingers have got to be smaller than mine.”
“Bring it on,” she said, glad to help out a man who’d helped so many others last night. Last night…
He handed her the filament and sat one step below her, resting his elbows on the porch floor, gazing at the sturdy maple and oak trees lining the road.
“About last night…” she began as she tackled the fishing line.
“Sounds like the title of a movie,” he joked. But when she glanced at him, he turned away.
Her intuition started humming. The guy wasn’t as confident and carefree as he tried to appear. She’d try a different approach.
“So, Rick, are you taking an early vacation? It’s only the middle of May.”
“You could say that and be right.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be coy. You can’t be any older than I am—much too young for early retirement!”
He chuckled. “You caught me. Not retire
d. I just resigned. Or, as the department put it, took a leave of absence.”
Her stomach dropped. She pursued anyway. “The department?” She glanced at Ashley, who was playing with the dog, then focused back on Rick.
This time, he studied her before responding. “The NYPD. Twelve years.”
“Damn it! I thought so. No wonder you handled the emergency so well last night. No wonder Ashley feels so safe with you.” Of all the gin joints…
“And that makes you upset?” Frown lines creased his forehead.
“Yes. No. Yes. Somewhat.” Seemed he wasn’t the only confused person in the conversation. She yanked the line and he winced.
“Oops. Maybe I should take that fishing line back.”
She couldn’t blame him. Her hands were shaking. She dropped them in her lap. “Give me a sec. I just have to get used to the idea that I’ve got a cop living two doors down.”
Rick had to set her straight. “Ex-cop. Remember that.”
“Does it really matter?” she retorted. “I swear, Quincy has more brains, has had more success and cares more about Ashley than the entire Mayfield police force.”
Rick stood up. It was time to get out of Dodge. A new career did not include backsliding into his old one. “I can leave the dog with her if you like. Just tell him to go home when you’re ready.”
He reached for the ball of filament.
She held on to it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have painted you with the same brush I used on my incompetent hometown department on Long Island.”
She was so wrong. “Go right ahead, Kris. You’re entitled. I’ve made my share of mistakes, too. I’d like to be perfect. Hell, we all would. But…we’re also human. More’s the pity.” He mumbled the last words to himself, but she probably heard them.
“Then it’s hopeless,” she whispered. “You did such a great job at the diner, and if someone like you can’t deliver, then…”
“No! Nothing’s ever hopeless.” Man, he’d sent the wrong message this time. “Kristin, even cold cases have been solved twenty years later.”
“Twenty years! The bastard who hurt her is still free, walking our streets. We don’t have twenty years.”
She reached for his hands with both of hers. “For my daughter’s sake, I have no pride. In the last two days, she’s made real progress, but there’s such a long way to go. She refuses to go to school. She refuses to see her friends. She refuses to live in our house. I keep thinking that if the perp was caught, she’d know she was safe. But they’ve stopped looking for him.”
Rick doubted it. “How do you know that?”
“I call all the time, and they have nothing to say. I think they’d like me to stop bothering them.”
She raised her face to his, her blue eyes shadowed. “Can you help us? Can you at least make some phone calls? Maybe they’d listen to you more than to me.”
He looked at Ashley, now playing fetch with the dog. She waved at him, then threw her stick again for Quincy. Every time the dog returned it to her, he took a second to sniff her, kiss her and walk around her. Kristin was right. Quincy had put them all to shame. The dog was doing his job without being told.
Rick tilted his head back and stared at the cloudless blue sky. He was here for R & R. To relax, to explore a new future. To get away from police work. He needed to mind his own business.
Kristin didn’t understand. To her, it was just a few telephone calls. But once he picked up that receiver and dialed, he was into it deep. Especially with another jurisdiction. Captain Stein would either go nuts or he’d cheer. Probably the latter. And the shrink? Hell, who knew what he’d do, what reports he’d write. Technically, Rick was still on the force.
He looked from mother to daughter and back again. Kristin’s discouragement saddened him. And little Ashley would need more support than even Quincy could provide. He’d worked with child victims many times with some success, so how could he ignore these two ladies?
But what if he screwed up again? Another little girl was dead because of him. Perspiration dampened his skin. But he wasn’t negotiating this time. Never again. All Kristin was asking him to do was to make a few phone calls. So that was all he’d do. He wouldn’t get personally involved with a child victim. Not ever again.
He took a deep breath. “Tell me everything you know,” he said quietly. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thank you so much,” she breathed. “I can’t tell you what this means to me, to Ashley—”
“Don’t get all emotional on me,” he ordered. “Or—or I’m outta here.”
She sucked it up. A regular lioness. Ashley was lucky.
HIS WALL OF DEFENSE had been smashed after the failed hostage negotiation, and he hadn’t had enough time to rebuild it. Despite his effort to remain aloof, he was haunted by Kristin’s pain, Ashley’s mischievous face, her innocence. All day, his emotions had seesawed between sorrow for Ash, fury at the perp and disappointment in the system that hadn’t allowed the case to be solved. By evening, he needed a break.
On the back screened porch, Rick picked up his sax and started with the early days of Charlie Parker. Soon conscious thought disappeared, and he was in another world where only the music mattered. He scooted up in time to some classic Stan Getz—“Where or When,” “Time After Time”—and then tried to get into Coltrane’s very complicated fingering. It became a practice session for him. Good for his mind. Good for his heart. Good for his soul. Good for auditions.
Music was on his list of possible careers, but something niggled at him. It was probably silly. Even stupid. But he worried about turning his passion into a regular job. For him, the music was personal. It was his joy. Sometimes playing the sax lifted his spirits, sometimes the music simply channeled any emotion he was feeling. At the end of day, it relaxed him. That had been especially true during his days on the force.
He’d once known a woman who enjoyed home decorating. She’d had a talent for it and helped her friends dress up their apartments. Then she quit her office job and became a pro. Exhausted, stressed, she hated it. The joy was gone.
And he sure didn’t want to become another Mr. Tanner, the guy in the Harry Chapin song. Mr. Tanner was a dry cleaner with a beautiful voice—until, urged by his friends, he performed at Carnegie Hall and got pelted by the music critics. He never sang again. He lost out both professionally and personally.
Rick clutched his sax. His heart broke for that guy, fiction or not.
Nah, he wouldn’t start out at the clubs. He’d start with writing a résumé. He’d write one tomorrow. Then he’d go online and browse. Maybe a private investigation firm needed someone. Maybe he should work temp jobs, try them out until he found one that fit. No commitment. He started to smile. Now, that idea made sense.
He put the mouthpiece to his lips again. Where was the flute tonight? Maybe his secret partner had simply been passing through, a guest of someone. He played some more, until his eyelids drooped, and he knew he’d sleep well that night.
The next morning, Rick let Quincy out for his bathroom ritual and got ready for their usual run around the lake. When he went outside, however, the dog was gone. Quincy was better trained than that. Losing no time, Rick jogged toward Kristin’s house. Sure enough, Ashley was on the side of the road in front of her house, with her feet an inch from the blacktop. The dog stood in front of her, not letting her move.
“Hey, Ash,” Rick said casually as he approached. “What are you doing up so early?”
Her sweet smile could melt his heart. “I was waiting for Quincy. He’s my best friend now.”
Oh, baby…
“Where’s Mom?”
“Sleeping.” She put her arms around the dog.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the door open and a petite figure appear on the Goldmans’ front porch. Immediately, he heard, “Ash-ley!” A note of desperation registered in the call. Kristin spotted them and waved them over.
“Uh-oh.” The kid gulped and ran toward her.
He and Quincy followed more slowly and arrived in time to hear Kristin talk about rules of behavior. And scaring Ashley’s poor old mother.
Then she added, “And furthermore, you can’t bother Rick all the time.”
“But I’m not bothering Rick. I’m bothering Quincy!”
Kristin’s complexion turned pink. But Rick laughed, the kind of laugh that reduced a person’s blood pressure. “Ash, you’re funny. Too funny.”
The kid beamed. Kristin watched them, her gaze moving from Rick to her daughter and back again.
“Ashley sure loves Quincy. I don’t suppose he’s for sale, by any chance?”
“No.” No elaboration needed.
“Well, does he have a brother?”
This woman didn’t give up. “I don’t think so, Kristin. But Ash is welcome to play with him anytime she wants, except early in the morning.”
He turned his attention to the child. “To stay healthy, Quincy needs his exercise, so we run every day before it gets too hot outside.”
Ash pivoted toward Kristin. “You told me that, Mom. Remember? About big dogs and their strength. You were right.”
“Well, whaddayaknow? Your mom was right—for once.”
Both of them giggled, and to Rick’s great surprise, he joined in. Seemed he was laughing a lot more than usual lately while hanging around these ladies. A nice, temporary diversion.
THEIR ELECTRICITY had been restored the night before, and now Kristin examined the contents of her fridge and cupboards and started a shopping list. Ashley looked up from the book she was reading.
“Please, Mom, can we buy doggy treats, too?”
“Absolutely. And we’ll write Quincy’s name on the box in big bright letters.”
“Good, but dogs see in black and white, and they can’t read.” The child left her chair and hugged Kristin. “I love you, Mommy.”
She held her daughter tightly in her arms. “And I love you, Ash. Forever and ever. No matter what.”
“I know.” Ashley leaned into Kristin farther and sighed a big sigh, a weighty sigh.
“What is it, Ash? What are you thinking about?”
Linda Barrett - Count on a Cop Page 4
