Home For Christmas

by Patricia Potter

  But didn’t she owe her son more than the man who so explosively entered their lives months earlier? A man who might have killed his partner? A man who’d critically wounded a police detective?

  The man she loved.

  That same man had twice come to her rescue without a thought for his own life. If he was apprehended, he might well die in police custody. Could she let that happen? Yet as an attorney, an officer of the court, she knew the penalties for aiding a felon What would happen to Nick if she went to prison?

  Time. She needed time. Time to see whether Banyon survived Time to hear what Father O’Grady had to say He could be the final piece to the puzzle that was Ryan Murphy and what happened ten years earlier.

  “Julie, I have to go ”

  “Where are you?”

  He hesitated.

  “General area?”

  “Rome.”

  “Drive south on I-75 to the Kennesaw exit.” She described a motel at the exit. “Wait in your car ”

  “No, I don’t want you involved. I’d rather turn myself in.”

  “I found the priest, Ryan, He called early this morning He’ll be here tomorrow. Maybe he can answer some of your questions. Then, if you want, you can do whatever you wish.”

  There was a long pause

  “If anyone sees us,” she said, “I can say I was meeting with you to get you to surrender yourself.”

  “All right,” he said finally, reluctantly.

  She hung up She didn’t give him a chance to change his mind.

  Minutes later, she was back home getting Nick ready for the trip. She also packed a tape recorder, and tucked several extra tapes in her pocket. After making sure she wasn’t followed, she went to a bank teller machine and withdrew a thousand in cash, then drove to a small grocery store where she quickly bought milk, cereal, bread and cold cuts

  North of Kennesaw was a cabin owned by Dan Watters. She had been there several times. A key was always taped beneath a bird house. No one would look for a fugitive at the summer getaway of the district attorney.

  Ryan waited in his car. This was a very bad idea, and he would tell her so when she arrived. He’d even thought about not showing up, but then she would probably wait in the cold, drizzly weather all right.

  What a mess he’d made of everything He should have just waited at the storage locker. His life wasn’t worth hers And yet he wanted—no, had—to find out what happened ten years ago And so he’d pulled her into his life again.

  After an hour or so, he saw her car He got out and she drove in next to his car. Glancing inside, he saw a sleeping Nick in the back seat His heart cracked. He remembered seeing him yesterday, so still So quiet.

  “He’s all right,” she said softly after rolling the window down “Come on, get in,” she said.

  “I think you should go home.”

  “Not without you.” Her chin had that determined set to it “And we can’t argue out here.”

  He went around to the passenger’s side, prepared to argue. But once he slid into the passenger seat, she backed out and drove out of the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

  “A place they will never find you.”

  He must have slept a while, because she felt him jerk awake when she stopped. Neither of them had said much after he had told her everything that had happened.

  Julie took the flashlight and found the key that was always kept taped under the birdhouse for various visitors offered the cabin from time to time She had been among them But she didn’t think anyone else would be here this close to Christmas and m this drizzling, cold weather. Minutes later they were inside a rustic log cabin, and Nick was settled down in one of the bedrooms She turned up the heat, blessing Dan for keeping the utilities connected year round.

  Ryan was watching her “Is this yours?”

  “The district attorney’s”

  He started at that. “I take it he’s totally unaware that he has guests?”

  “He is.”

  “He leaves the key under a birdhouse?”

  “Better than under the mat or in the flowerpot,” she said, trying to force a note of lightness into the moment, even though she winced at her betrayal of both herself and Dan An officer of the court. A friend She was abusing both But she hadn’t been able to think of any place else.

  He was staring at her with disbelief. Then the side of his eyes started crinkling, his dark, brooding eyes lightened, and his lips twisted into a wry grin as he shook his head He took a step toward her, and she was in his arms, his mouth pressing down on hers with a desperation and passion that reduced her to bone melting imbecility.

  She’d been cold, but suddenly she turned to fire. Her body melded into his, and her arms went around him An urgency she’d never known before consumed her She knew it consumed him as well Her arms tightened around his neck, and he drew her so close only their clothes kept them from being one Together, without thought or words, they made their way to the other empty bedroom. She locked the door, knowing she would hear if Nick needed anything.

  In seconds their clothes were gone, littering the floor

  He leaned over her, when something—caution—shaded his face, and he went back to his jeans He pulled out his wallet, then a small package. In a moment he was over her, his hands touching her face, her hair, her breasts. His lips followed, trailing kisses with barely leashed intensity that was equal parts violence, desperation, yearning. She felt all of those when his lips met hers, and his tongue plundered her mouth while his hands stoked her body until she felt she would burst with the growing need inside her

  Bad idea. Worse action. But she didn’t care She didn’t care about anything but responding to his hands, tasting his mouth, feeling his body tease hers until she was wild with want.

  Then he plunged into her without his previous foreplay. Her body rose to meet his and they met in a crescendo of need and want and...caring until every nerve, every sensitive part of her, exploded with exquisite sensations She heard her own low cry of fulfilment, then his moan of release as he collapsed on top of her for a moment, then rolled over on his side, carrying her with him

  She felt his chest against her ear, heard the beat of his heart as he put his arms around her and cradled her. Then she felt a wetness and looked up. Tears shone in his eyes She put a wondering hand up to them, her fingers brushing one away with a tenderness that came from so deep in her heart that she trembled with it.

  They were silent for a moment. She recorded the moment, the richness of the feelings, her wonder at the purity of them

  Her hands moved over him as they would some infinitely precious treasure. She wondered if she could ever get enough of him, if these overpowering feelings could ever fade. He didn’t bother to wipe away the wetness on his face, but his fingers moved along her face, loving it in a way that far transcended words.

  Julie didn’t know how much time passed. They were lost in a magical web of discovery, of mutual love and caring

  It was Ryan who finally broke the silence “Whatever did I do to deserve you?” he whispered into her ear.

  Her hand caught his and brought it to her mouth. She loved him so She loved everything about him his tenderness, his gentleness with her son, his sharp intelligence, his courage to confront what would have defeated so many others No doubt remained Not one And that reminder made her move away from him, even as she felt grief at the loss of his body in hers, that intimate connection that made them one.

  But she held on to his hand, her fingers tightening around his. “I have to go before long. I want to get home before dawn in case anyone comes looking for me. I’m sure there will be more questions.”

  He didn’t say anything, but she felt the warm pressure of his fingers

  “Father O’Grady is flying in today,” she said. “Maybe I can learn something from him. And we have to know what happened with Banyon” She was quiet a moment, then added, “We have to find out who Sandy is.”

  “I want you out of this,” he said
“I’ll turn myself in”

  “No,” she said. “Not yet. Give me a couple of days. At least until you talk to Father O’Grady.”

  “You can be charged with harboring a fugitive, obstruction of justice, and God knows what else,” he said in a broken voice. “I can’t...”

  “Do you have any idea what my life would be if you were killed?” She heard the tremor in her own voice

  “You have Nick to think about ”

  “Yes. And I would think he would want me to do what’s right. Maybe not now, but as he grows up.” She met his eyes. “A few days Just a few days. No one can find you here ”

  He was silent. “They were willing to kill Nick, Julie What about him?”

  “I won’t let him out of my sight. I have a gun. I know how to use it.”

  His eyes opened wide.

  “When I was with the district attorney, I received threats,” she said Then she added, “Please, Ryan. Three days”

  His hand ran through her hair. “All right,” he said “Three days.”

  Ryan prowled both the cabin and the woods around it He’d wandered down to a short beach on the edge of a lake, and stared out at the rippling gray water Seized by restlessness and fear for Julie and her son, he almost hiked to the nearest road to hitchhike into Atlanta. But he’d given his word He could only wait in an agony of worry

  It was late afternoon when he heard a car driving up. He waited behind some trees, hoping his dark clothes blended into late afternoon shadows, until he recognized her car and saw her step out, followed by Nick and a man in his late fifties or early sixties

  The priest. It had to be the priest.

  Nick ran toward him, and Ryan leaned down and picked him up. He received a big hug and Ryan studied every inch of him to make sure there were no lingering effects from the other evening. The boy looked tired but no worse for wear

  “I missed you, Ryan ”

  “I missed you, too, munchkin.”

  “When are you coming home?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Julie interrupted and took Nick from him, setting him on the ground.

  Ryan forced his gaze away from them and toward the stranger. He saw the man’s face crease with recognition and a smile. Then suddenly out of nowhere came a flash streaking through his mind. A younger man in black, a catcher’s glove on his hand and a grin on his face. He stopped still, stunned.

  Julie’s hand reached out, her face worried. “Ryan?”

  He shook his head as if to shake the image away. “It’s nothing,” he said, as he studied the face of the newcomer, once more searching for recognition. The flash of memory had disappeared so quickly he wasn’t sure this was the same man

  A hand came out toward him. “Sean O’Grady,” said the visitor.

  Ryan took it. He felt the strength in it, and even more the warmth, as if O’Grady were greeting an old friend. Suddenly the man let go of his hand and gave him a bear hug When he was finished, he stood back and grinned. “That was for me,” he said. “Mrs. Farrell said you had amnesia. I hoped that you might remember something when you saw me.”

  Ryan had At least he thought he had. But he wasn’t sure. “Thank you for coming I. suppose you know I’m wanted.”

  “Aye, I do, Ryan.”

  “You could get in trouble.”

  “I’m used to trouble. And Mrs. Farrell said I might be able to help ”

  Julie interrupted. “Let’s go inside. I’ll make some coffee ”

  Ryan fell into step alongside the priest, or former pnest or whatever he was He kept fighting to remember, to recall that one enticing instant memory.

  Once inside, the two of them sat at a table while Julie went about making coffee. She’d brought a coloring book and crayons with her and she found Nick a place in the corner far enough not to be able to hear low voices, close enough to keep an eye on him.

  Tension radiated inside Ryan as he looked across the table “What can you tell me? How did I know you?”

  “Everything?” O’Grady looked up at Julie who sat down with them

  “There’s nothing to hide from her,” Ryan said. He lowered his voice so Nick wouldn’t hear. “She knows the worst—that I was a killer who apparently dealt in drugs—and that didn’t stop her.”

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  “How long did you know me?”

  “Since you were seven.”

  “How? Were we members of your church?”

  “No. The police brought you by my office. They caught you stealing food It wasn’t the first tune.” He looked at Ryan with eyes that were sad and infinitely weary as if he’d told the tale before Too many times. It might not have been Ryan, but it had been others.

  “Go on,” Ryan said harshly.

  “I don’t know who your father was,” O’Grady said “Your mother was a drug addict and prostitute. She didn’t look after you. You looked after her. You stole and cheated and lied to get food for her ”

  Ryan felt the muscles in his cheek flex. His fingers curled into a ball. He didn’t know what he expected. But it hadn’t been this

  “I helped a little, got you interested in our youth baseball team. Half the tune you didn’t show up because your mother was sick or in trouble, but you came when you could. I think it took your mind off her. She died of an overdose when you were nine, and I found a foster family in my parish to take you in. They moved out of state when you were seventeen, and you moved into a room in the church so you could finish high school where you had been playing baseball. You did odd jobs. You always had a knack for fixing things.

  “I was so proud of you when you finished high school, then went to college. But never more so than when you graduated from the Police Academy. You..were like a son to me.”

  “Why didn’t I see you after I married?”

  “You did You always made a point to meet somewhere away from your house. You told me you didn’t want your wife to know about your mother, about that part of your life. You kept all that in a little box in your head, just like ..you kept your feelings in boxes. Perhaps because your mother took so much of your heart, you were afraid to risk it again.”

  “In other words, I was a cold bastard.”

  “No,” O’Grady said softly “You gave me money for my boys. For boys like you. There was one in particular You helped put him through college, although you never let me tell him who was providing the money You cared, Ryan. You cared about your wife and child. You cared about boys like you You were just afraid of being vulnerable again.”

  Ryan’s fingers uncurled, then curled again. The money. The money his wife had mentioned. Not gambling debts Not drugs He looked at Julie and saw tears in her eyes, and her hand stretched out to him. He took it, his fingers wrapping around hers almost desperately

  O’Grady smiled.

  Ryan forced himself back to the story “Do you know anything about my shooting my partner?”

  O’Grady’s smile faded His face suddenly looked older “No. I saw you right after it happened, and you told me you’d shot in self-defense. A week later you confessed. You wouldn’t tell me why.” He fumbled in his pocket. “You gave me a letter, though. You told me that if anything happened to you, I should give it to your daughter on her twenty-first birthday. I think you were afraid you might. ”

  “Die in prison?” Ryan finished.

  O’Grady nodded and pulled a folded letter from his pocket and shoved it across the table Ryan stared at it as if it were a snake The letter was addressed to Laura Murphy in bold black letters.

  Ryan was conscious of two pairs of eyes on him as he slowly took the letter, turning it around several tunes in his fingers. He swallowed through a growing lump in his throat. The letter held answers. Were they answers he wanted?

  He finally opened it.

  Dear Laura,

  I have asked Father O’Grady to give this to you on your twenty-first birthday if for some reason I cannot.

  I do not want you to go through life
believing that your father was a murderer, and probably worse. I do not want you to ever think I did not love you, and your mother, more than life itself.

  I know you must have wondered why I broke all communication. It is not because I do not care. God knows I do and always will. But it was for your own protection I believed—whether rightly or wrongly—that a total break was better for you. Your mother could get on with her life, and you could forget me.

  I have never been involved in drugs. Your grandmother died of a drug overdose, and I joined the police department in part to fight those who deal with and sell drugs. At the time of my arrest, I was getting close to a man named Castilani through an informant who worked for him. On Christmas Eve, I received a call from the informant saying he feared he had been discovered I drove out to meet the informant and found him dying He told me he’d also called Mike Cates, my partner One of Castilani’s men tortured him and left him for dead, but not before mentioning Cates’s name.

  I was angry. Beyond angry A man died because of me, because I’d trusted Cates. I went after him, and found him outside a bar he frequented. I accused him and he pulled his gun and fired. I fired in self-defense. Within minutes, a captain appeared and took me off to talk. When I returned to the scene, Cates’s gun was gone. Three days later I was arrested at the direction of Captain William Lewis and jailed without bond. That night you barely escaped being hit by a car that didn’t stop.

  I was told by one of Castilani’s men that it was a warning, that if I didn’t plead guilty, you and your mother would be killed.

  Laura, I had no way of protecting you from jail. I knew what he had done to the informant. I didn’t have anyone I could trust. I knew there had been leaks in the task force formed to investigate Castilani, but I hadn’t suspected Mike. I didn’t know who else was involved. Perhaps the captain Perhaps even the district attorney himself

  I couldn’t take chances with your life, or your mother’s.