“May I?” A man stepped up behind the woman. Cress accepted his hug as well, the wellspring of emotion pulling at her. This would be young Brian’s stepfather, the man maligned in the press, cast under a deep cloud of suspicion and thought of by many to be responsible for the boy’s untimely disappearance. This man had suffered from multiple directions, but somehow he and his wife had endured. He stepped back, looped a hand around his wife’s shoulders and met Cress’s gaze. “You’ve given us everything we hoped, dreamed and prayed for. Our son.”
Cress waved a hand to the office at large, where special agents, state troopers and sheriff’s detectives and deputies stood in small groups, talking. Watching. “Thank you, but as you can see, it was a team effort, sir.”
He nodded thanks to the gathered officers, but then shifted his attention back to Cress. “But if you hadn’t noticed Brian that day, hadn’t followed them, hadn’t followed up on the whole thing with your friends in Minneapolis,” he shook his head, hands out, palms up, “we’d still be living under a cloud of suspicion and doubt, without our son.”
“He’s right, you know.” The sheriff stepped forward and gripped Cress’s hand in a firm shake. “Solid job, Detective. You ever decide to come looking for work back here, see me first.”
Talk about perfect timing. Cress met his frank look with a smile. “That could be sooner than you think, sir.”
He read her implication and nodded. “I’ll look forward to reviewing your application.”
Right then the boy moved out from behind a desk, cookie crumbles on his cheeks, his chin. “You saw me that day.”
Cress squatted to his level, her heart near to bursting at the innocent way he came to her, his deep brown eyes wide and trusting. “I did.”
“I saw you watching us and I asked God to tell you to send help. I didn’t say it out loud,” he added, sober, as if having to explain, “I just said it inside, but that was okay because He listened, right?”
Quick tears stung Cress’s eyes. The boy’s innocent faith in the face of adversity offered true inspiration. “He did. I’m sorry it took a little while.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Brian assured her, his tone and stance serious. “I just kept waiting.”
His childlike belief pulled Cress in. She hugged him tight, but not for too long, figuring he’d had a day of being hugged and kissed already. “Thank you for waiting. That makes you a very brave young man.”
“That’s what Dad says.” Brian looped his hand into his stepfather’s much bigger one. “He always told me to be big and brave and bold.”
Cress flashed a smile up as she stood. “Sound advice, Brian.” She turned slightly to face the boy’s parents. “You guys have done a great job of raising a wonderful little boy. You should be very proud.”
The father’s arm tightened around his wife, the boy’s hand clutched in his. He nodded. “We are.”
“You okay?” Alex stepped in front of her as they made their way out of the station a short while later. Cress paused. Blinked and puffed out a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
Alex nodded to the door they’d just come through. “What you saw in there? The result of straight-on good detective work.”
She hesitated then nodded, realizing he was right. She’d been second-guessing herself right along, but for all the wrong reasons. Yes, she’d messed up big time in the personal department, in the romance thing. But she’d survived, maybe even became stronger in the end.
And her police work?
Totally on top of her game. She saw that reflected in the eyes of the officers indoors, their appreciation for her follow through and her ability to stand back, let them do their job, not always an easy thing for a detective to do. “You know what I think, Counselor?”
His gaze noted the tinge of humor in her tone and shot one eyebrow up. “Dare I ask?”
She grinned up at him before slanting a look back at the station. “I think I’ll take a little time tomorrow and fill out the online applications for the Chippewa County Sheriff’s Department. What do you think?”
His grin said more than his words. “Carpe diem, Detective. And if you need a reference, just let me know.”
“Aw, Alex.” She stretched up on tiptoe and feathered a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting her lips wander his cheek, his chin, the grip of his gentle hands tightening around her waist. “I almost get the idea you want me to stay.”
“It’s worth consideration. Over time, of course.” He smiled down at her, his face bright with warmth and appreciation, affection and desire, a desire heightened by…
No, it couldn’t be more than that. Not so quickly. Not with all that happened and her fairly stupid history.
But gazing into his eyes she glimpsed a future bright with promise, warmed with grace, his peaceful nature complementing her spunk, her fire. She leaned her head against his chest as Cruz came out the door behind them. “I’ve got time, Counselor.”
He ignored Cruz completely, tipped her chin up and her head back, gave her a kiss that sent her timely advice whirling out the window, then eased back, holding her gaze, his head angled, his voice low. “Glad to hear it, Detective.”
*
Alex should be bone tired after the emotionally wearing day they’d just put in, but he wasn’t even close to sleep as the clock wound well past midnight. Thoughts of what might have happened to Cress crowded his brain, angering him all over again.
He’d left her.
Why had he done that?
Yes, she was all right now, no thanks to him. Hadn’t he felt anxious about leaving her that morning, despite her obvious affection for Carl? Hadn’t his internal radar spiked? He’d chalked it up to normal nerves, but it wasn’t. He knew that now. Around Cress, nothing he felt was normal. The slightest emotion skewed up or down because it was Cress, his girl, his woman. If she’d have him.
Oh, he’d teased her about taking time. Teasing her was fun, he could imagine a lifetime of doing it, tweaking her, needling her, seeing her spark and sizzle before calming her down with whatever means a good husband has at his disposal.
That thought cranked his grin, but thoughts of loving Cress weren’t exactly helping his sleeping problem. Forget about taking time, about long engagements, about big weddings overdone, overblown and overpriced.
He wanted her as his wife, his helpmate, his soulmate, here and now. He’d get her out to the new house, show her around and propose in proper style, then do whatever it took…
That spiked another smile…
To get her to set a quick date. Call the pastor. Get things moving.
He wanted the happily ever after his parents never got. He wanted his mother to know her grandbabies, rock them in her lap, take them to the park for playground time, to Smithy’s for ice cream.
The thought of Cress warm and round with their child added another layer of anticipation to his late night ramblings.
No use. It was no use at all. Sighing, he grabbed his light coat, woke up the dog and headed out to the new place to continue the work he’d been doing. Maybe an hour or two of painting would ease him to the point of sleep. He had an old couch there for just that reason. If he got himself tired enough, he might just use it.
Chapter Seventeen
Downstairs noises stirred Cress awake, sunlight streaming through the unshaded window, the bright light welcome after yesterday’s rain.
Jumbled thoughts invaded, tumbling through her head, the previous day’s events a tangle of good and bad.
But that’s how things were in police work. You looked at the good, then at the bad and said ‘well, then’ to both.
Remembering Brian’s sweet, trusting face, Cress breathed a prayer of thanks that they’d gotten to him without mishap, that the little boy was safe at home now, in the arms of his loving family. She knew too many cases with different endings, making Brian’s outcome all the more joyful.
Audra’s laughter wafted up the old staircase, followed by another voice. Her father’s v
oice. His deeper cadence took her back to a place and time before her mother’s death, before his bout with alcoholism, before life plunged into darkness for an adolescent girl.
She’d tell them today that she was staying home, staying put. Slipping out of bed, she cringed as her feet touched the chill floor, a sign of things to come. She tiptoed across the floor, reached a hand into the second drawer, and withdrew the little plaid jacket and hat Gran had given her on Cedar Chest Cleaning Day. It had been joined by various other things, baby things, kid things, homey things, memories of Gran and Gramps and the farm clinging to each and every piece.
But this outfit seemed especially sweet. Inviting. She crawled back into bed, drew the covers up against the morning chill and fingered the little garments, her thoughts wandering to little boys with dark hair and little girls with Alex’s curls and her eyes, a heady combination. Visions of chubby fingers and downy heads invaded her senses, ribbons of delight chasing away shadows of doubt.
He loved her. She knew that. Felt it. It oozed from every part of him, the warm, loving, protective nature he exuded, his teasing nature, his quiet faith in her ability to overcome. He’d promised her time.
She didn’t want time. She’d already wasted too much time. She wanted him, she wanted now, she wanted the future so plainly laid out for them to reach, to grasp.
Could it be that easy?
Audra knocked lightly, then stepped through the door. “You’re awake?”
Cress grinned and blushed, so over-the-top schoolgirl that she should have been embarrassed but wasn’t. “Yes.”
“What have you got there?” Audra moved forward, her expression curious, then knowing. “Ah hah.”
Cress fidgeted, caught in the act of ogling baby clothes, a total feminine moment. “Don’t be jumping to conclusions. Got it?”
Her sister flashed a smile. “Got it.”
“This,” Cress jumped out of bed and waved in the general direction of the tiny coat and hat, “Is not indicative of anything. Nothing at all,” Cress scolded. “I just wanted to sit here and see if these little things were as cute as I remembered.”
“Oh, they are.” Audra leaned forward and kissed her sister’s cheek. “And after yesterday’s scare in the Twin Cities, I won’t deny that I’m firmly on board with you finding work elsewhere. Away from that lieutenant, away from the memories, away from the constant stream of crime.”
“There’s crime everywhere.” Cress grabbed jeans and a hoodie, more matter-of-fact.
“There is.” Audra met her look. “But some places more than others.” She reached out a hand to graze Cress’s hair, her face, then cupped her chin, her gaze understanding. “And that way you’d be here. With me. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I know.” Cress reached out and hugged her, wishing she hadn’t wasted so much time with her sisters. “I’d like that too. I’ll put in applications this week, get the ball rolling. I turned in my official letter to the MPD yesterday. We’ll see what Chippewa County’s got to offer.”
“Besides really hot lawyers?”
“Well, there’s that.” She ran a quick brush through her hair, and squared her shoulders. “Dad’s downstairs.”
“Yes.” Concern shaded Audra’s smile. “He wants to see you, be sure you’re okay. And you might want to go easy on him, Cress.”
She knew that. She’d realized it yesterday, in the clutches of an angry, obsessive man, that if she didn’t make it out of that sand alive, her father would go to his grave wondering if she ever forgave him, and that was a life sentence she couldn’t chance any longer. “I want to see him. Fix things.”
“Well, there’s a whole lot of us who’d be okay with that.” Audra turned and pulled open the old oak door. “After you. And, Cress?”
“Hmm?” Cress turned.
“About that little boy. Brian.”
“Yeah.”
The sheen of moisture in Audra’s eyes said more than words. “Good job.”
Audra’s approval took Cress to a new high. She’d abandoned her sisters and brother, in mind, then body as a teen. She’d walked away, angry at the world. To have Audra in her camp now meant everything. She reached back and hugged her tight. “Love you.”
Audra’s hug said the feeling was returned. “Me, too.”
Ray Dietrich stood in the north-facing living room as they came down the stairs together. Audra slipped to the left, toward the kitchen. Cress moved right.
“You’re okay?”
She nodded, thought, then shrugged. “Surprisingly, yes.”
Anger and worry darkened her father’s gaze as he moved closer. “And this guy, your boss? He won’t be let out?”
“He might make bail, his daddy’s pretty well set, but I think he’ll go down hard for this.”
“As he should.”
No argument there. She took a small step forward, one hand out, then hesitated.
“You’ve got something on your mind.”
She did. “I wasn’t sure I was going to get out of that mess yesterday.”
He nodded. Concern and regret marked his gaze.
“And all I could think of was how bad it would be if I died there—”
“Crescent Marie, let’s—”
She raised her hand so he’d let her continue. He did, but didn’t look all too happy about it. “And never got the chance to tell you that I’m sorry for being angry with you for so long.”
She’d startled him. Amazed him, even. A range of emotions from puzzlement to surprise to joy claimed his face.
“I kept thinking what a horrid thing to do to you, to let you carry my anger without ever talking to you. Asking you to forgive me for being—”
“For being right? For realizing I messed up my kids, my life, my job, my family?”
“Well.” Cress stepped forward again and kept her eyes on his. “We could have both done some things different, but it’s a long time back, Dad. Can we just move on, now? Because I could sure use a hug.”
His gaze melted into relief. He opened his arms. She stepped into them and the feel of the familiar, old embrace made her want to cry.
“I love you, Cress. And I just want to say I’m sorry, one more time. And then we’ll leave it go. Okay?”
“Ditto.” She hugged him back, but a flurry of voices from outside interrupted the moment. “Someone’s yelling. Doesn’t anyone sleep in around here? And haven’t we had about enough drama for a while?”
Her father’s pointed look said apparently not. “Stacey doesn’t sound any too happy about whatever it is.” He moved to the front door with a purpose Cress remembered from her childhood. “Let’s check this out.”
Gran’s across the street neighbor stood on the top step, waving a newspaper at Stacey, his voice bordering belligerent. “All this time.” Howard Larson held the paper aloft, his tone sharp with indignation. “All this time he’s had, and all the money he made, and this is what we’ve been waiting for. Some stinking grant money so Westmore doesn’t have to shell a freakin’ dime out of his own pocket. You can take a kid out of the gutter, but you can’t take the gutter out of the kid. Leave it to a Westmore to want to stick it to the establishment while the average joe runs around doing the right thing, 24/7.”
“Howard, come in,” Cress’s father insisted. “Don’t stand there in the door like you haven’t been Norma’s friend and neighbor for over thirty years. What’s this all about?”
Howard handed him the paper. “Page one of the local section.”
Ray Dietrich started reading where he stood, and his changing expression said something was wrong. Very wrong. “Alex got government funds to develop the parklands.”
“Bingo. We’ve watched as he wheedled this sale from Norma, pillaged this beautiful country setting and turned it into another stinkin’ sub-division, all the while making promises about the lovely parkland he’d develop for the kids, the neighborhood, a tribute to your mother-in-law. Bah.” Howard waved an arm in disgust. “He never meant a wor
d of it. Not one stinking word. It’s a good thing we’ve got Cromartie running for the state senate seat. At least he’s willing to dig far enough to find the dirt on scum like Westmore.”
“Now, hold on, you don’t know that.” Stacey interrupted his tirade, stepping closer. “I’ve known Alex all my life. He’s a good man. If he needed grant money for this project, there was a reason for it, I’m sure.”
“What reason?” Howard peered down his nose at her. When Stacey faltered, he nodded. “Ahuh. There is a reason, Stacey, and I’ll give it to you straight. He’s a no good, bottom-dwelling lawyer who looks out for one thing and one thing only. Himself. And why that’s a surprise to anyone knowing his background amazes me. He knew Norma had a soft spot for him, and he used that to bilk her out of her estate, her savings, her legacy. And then doesn’t have the decency to fund the green space out of his take. Oh, no, he has to twiddle around gathering taxpayer dollars while he builds a freakin’ showplace in the woods.”
“Howard, we don’t know if any of this is even true,” Stacey scolded.
“The paper messes things up all the time,” Ray added.
“Then ask her.” Howard raised a hand and pointed over their heads. Cress turned. Gran and Audra had come in from the back garden. Gran stood stock still, staring, her dark eyes nailing Howard. “Ask Norma how much money she’s got in the bank. How much she got from the sale of her historic centennial farm.”
The question of the hour, the thing they’d all wondered continuously, but didn’t have the courage or the right to ask. All eyes turned to Gran as she stared back at them, her stance a mix of offense and defense, never a good sign. She huffed a breath, moved forward on less-than-steady legs and met Howard face to face. “Not that it’s any of your business, Howard, this whole neighbor thing only stretching so far, but there’s precious little in my bank account to date. If you have a problem with that, see my lawyer, Alex Westmore.”
Safely Home Page 21
