“God must’ve put the idea on my heart.” Her cheeks were nearly dry now. “When the time’s right, I want to share this with Alex. This could turn things around for him.”
A skeptical look flashed across Clay’s face. He framed Jamie’s face with his hands and ran his thumbs lightly beneath her eyes, wiping away what remained of her tears. “Seeing you like that, sitting here crying, reading his journal,” his voice was not much more than a whisper. “It breaks my heart, Jamie. It makes me feel …” he looked away from her, at the fraction of sky through the same window where she’d been sitting. “Like I’ll never be more than second-best.”
In the nearly four years they’d been married, Clay had only brought up this terrible feeling of his one other time — when he’d found her outside their house, lost in thought on what would’ve been Jake’s birthday. What she’d told him then still applied today. She tried to find the right words to express her heart. “Clay,” she waited until she had his complete attention again, “Jake was a part of my life for twenty years.” Her tone was kind, begging him to understand. “You can’t ask me to walk away from that.”
He looked like he might say something in response, or try to debate her on her decision to spend the afternoon reading Jake’s journal. But instead he took the journal from her and set it carefully on the floor beside them. Then he pulled her close and smoothed his hand along the back of her head. “I’m sorry. It’s hard for me.”
She held onto him, gripping his strong body to her own as fresh tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know what to say, baby. It’s hard for me too.”
From the far end of the house they heard the happy voice of Sierra, home from school. “Mom? Dad? I aced my math test!”
Jamie pulled back and wiped her eyes again. “Time got away from me. That’s all.” She reached down, picked up Jake’s journal, and took a few steps toward the stairs. “I’m sorry, Clay. Really.”
He held her eyes a few seconds more, nodded, and turned to intercept Sierra. “All right! Did you bring it home?”
“Yeah, it’s in my backpack.”
Jamie realized what Clay had done. By going to meet Sierra, he’d given her unspoken permission to collect herself, to return the journal and find her way back to the here and now, and she loved him for it. But even as she hurried up the stairs and set the book back on the top shelf of the hall closet, even as she ran a washcloth over her face and pulled a brush through her dark hair, she had to ask herself if this wasn’t what Eric had warned her about. That by taking up the cause of Alex Brady, she might wind up lost somewhere back in yesterday — a place she had a hard enough time leaving four years ago. At the time, she’d thought little of his warning, but now she didn’t have to ask if the possibility existed.
The tearstains on her cheek told her all she needed to know.
TEN
The memories of Holly had hung around longer than usual, through the night and waiting there in the wings while Alex had shown up on the hostage scene and quickly taken matters into his own hands. Poor Clay hadn’t known what to make of him, sitting in his squad car with Bo on the ground beside him, barely saying more than a few words about the incident.
What was he supposed to say? He hadn’t liked seeing the bad guy lying on the ground bleeding out, but someone had to stop him. This was what he’d committed his life to doing, getting criminals off the street, making his father proud. Doing his part to keep families from being ripped apart the way his had been.
Sure, he’d acted on instinct, taking Bo and slipping toward the back of the parking lot. But he’d had a feeling about the parked cars, and as he made his way closer he was sure he saw someone move inside the middle one. By the time the second gunman sprang from the car shooting his gun, Alex was ready.
The way he’d been ready since the moment he was sworn in as a Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputy.
Clay had thought Alex was quiet because of the shooting, but that was only partly it. The shooting was a necessary act, proving he had been right where he was supposed to be. He felt bad about taking the guy down, but what sort of crazy person would dare leap from a hiding place and start shooting at the backs of SWAT team officers? Crazy guy like that wouldn’t think twice about killing again, whenever the system let him out.
The distance in his eyes had been about more than the shooting. The reason he didn’t have much to say was because of Holly’s memory, because the act of taking out the criminal was the very reason he’d given her up. Normally he could push her memory away, tuck it safely back into a cold, airless vault in his heart where it would never see the light of day. But this time her memory hung around, her voice talking to him as he drove into work that morning, the feel of her hand in his so strong she might as well have been sitting beside him as he went out on patrol. The only time he didn’t catch himself thinking about her was during the call, while he sped to the scene to provide backup, and while he took care of the bad guys. The minute the danger had passed, she was back again, her clear blue eyes burning a painful hole in his heart.
Now it was noon Wednesday, and he was heading to work again. His sergeant had told him maybe this wasn’t a good day for overtime, what with the drama from the day before. But Alex wanted as much overtime as he could get. Every hour on the job helped push memories of the past a little further away, back where they belonged.
He parked his squad car, climbed out, and let Bo free from the backseat. They were into September, and the Santa Ana winds were picking up. He searched the mountains that ringed the area looking for signs of a brushfire. There were none. “Come on, Bo. Let’s get it.” Together they walked in, and from the moment he entered the meeting room he knew something had happened. Guys were talking in whispers, getting their coffee, and finding their folding chairs without the usual loud joking and relentless ribbing.
“Somebody wanna tell me what’s going on?” Alex stopped, and Bo immediately heeled at his side. Alex looked at the faces of the guys around him. “Anyone?”
Clay rounded the corner and stopped. He was the first guy to make eye contact with him since he’d walked through the door. “Brady … we need to see you in the office.”
Alex racked his brain, trying to imagine what might’ve happened to cause this sort of reaction among the special forces teams. Had someone seen him parked outside the REA headquarters? Was his job on the line for breaking department protocol?
Inside the office, Clay and Joe leaned against one wall, and behind an oversized desk sat three of the department’s highest-ranking brass. Clay shut the door behind them, and Alex remained standing. One at a time, he looked at the eyes of the men in charge. He waited until one of them spoke.
“Brady, we have bad news.” One of the department’s captains pressed his lips together.
Was it about his mother? He talked to her every few weeks, but never for very long. Her new husband had money, and the two of them were always going out or heading to some fundraiser or benefit dinner. She was an escrow officer now, busy with her own life. She understood how he felt about his job, how it was everything to him. But now had something happened to her too? His thoughts raced through his mind at breakneck speed.
“The suspect you shot at yesterday’s standoff?” the captain frowned, his voice deeply serious. “He died this morning. We just got word.”
Alex felt the loss of life instinctively, in a part of his soul where death of any kind would always hurt, always chafe against the ideal. He cleared his throat and stood a little straighter. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”
“This means an investigation, of course. Purely standard procedure.” The commander in the group folded his arms across his chest. “And for you, Brady, it means two weeks’ leave.” Alex felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. “Two weeks, sir?”
“Two weeks to clear your head, man.” Joe slid one foot up the wall and leaned on his knee. “It’s a good thing, Brady. Believe me.”
“We’ll keep you posted throughout the inve
stigation. It’s pretty open-shut. We’ll let you know when the final results are put into a report.” The captain motioned toward the door. “That’s all, Brady.”
Clay led the way, with Joe and Alex right behind him. The three walked down the hall to a different spot, a debriefing room with a small table and only six chairs. Again, Clay closed the door behind them, and the three of them took seats. Alex planted his elbows on the table and raked both hands through his hair. His remorse was quickly becoming something more like anger. “Did I ask for a vacation?” He spat the words at Clay and Joe, then tossed his hands and slammed himself back in his chair. “I shot to kill, like I’ve been trained to do in that situation. I don’t like it, but I had no choice. So why punish me?”
“Calm down.” Clay was usually the levelheaded one, but there was a simmering anger in his voice now too. “This is standard procedure when a deputy kills a suspect. You know that.”
Alex released a hard breath through clenched teeth. “It doesn’t make sense. I save a bunch of guys from getting bullets in their backs, and I’m kicked out for two weeks. How’s that fair?”
“It’s a vacation, Brady.” Joe laughed, but he sounded incredulous. “Make the most of it. Go see your mom or something.”
“I can’t leave Bo.”
“So fly Mom out here. Wouldn’t hurt you to spend a little time away from the office.” Joe bent down and patted Bo’s head. “Bo here feels the same way, right, Bo?”
The dog cocked his head to one side, and his ears came forward. But he didn’t bark. He wouldn’t without a command from Alex.
“Look, I’ll have the most input on the report.” Clay’s anger was gone now, and in its place he sounded tired. “Obviously, I’ll explain that you saw movement in a car at the other side of the parking lot, and you pursued the situation as part of your command to provide backup.”
Alex raised one eyebrow. “What about my implied assignment by the side of the building?”
“That was before you saw movement in one of the parked cars.” Clay said the words like they were fact, and they were. But the way he was wording his description of what happened meant there was no danger of Alex being reprimanded for acting on his instinct rather than by the book. Basically, Clay was going to bat for him in the biggest case of his career to date. Clay wasn’t finished. “I’ll explain that while you were pursuing the movement in the parked car, a suspect burst from inside the car and began shooting at the backs of your fellow deputies. At that time,” Clay’s look grew more intense, “and only after you saw the suspect start shooting, did you fire your gun.”
Joe watched the exchange between the two, doubt never once flickering in his expression. “You K9 guys have two choices. Shoot ‘em or dog ‘em. This time you had to do both.” Joe shrugged one shoulder. “Captain’s right. Open-shut case. Take the two weeks, then throw yourself back in the saddle.”
Alex was still reeling from Clay’s description of the events. They weren’t false, and they didn’t exactly stretch the truth. Everything happened so fast that day, he really wasn’t sure whether he saw the suspect’s gun first, or heard the gunfire first, or whether they both shot at the same time. In any case, his actions had been entirely warranted.
“I’ll finish my part of the report by confirming that a number of SWAT deputies could’ve lost their lives that day if not for your quick and accurate shooting.” He motioned to the others in the next room. “Every one of them on the scene would say the same thing.”
“Thank you, sir.” Alex kept up the formality because the matter was serious. But he had never felt Clay’s friendship more than at that moment. Bo pressed in against his leg, as if to say it was all going to be okay. They could take two weeks off and survive. “How am I supposed to spend my time?”
“I have an idea.” Joe took a folded sheet of paper from his back pocket. “LAPD’s doing a session on K9 training all next week, noon to four. I called, and they’d love to have you.”
“Tell him what they said.” Clay allowed the hint of a smile as he stretched his arm around the back of his chair.
Joe chuckled. “Apparently, the LAPD’s heard of you, Brady. The guy told me maybe you’d like to teach the course.”
The compliment hit its mark. It felt better than Alex might’ve imagined and took away some of the ache of knowing his bullet had killed a man. He didn’t bother containing the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. He and Bo were building a reputation among good guys and bad. Don’t mess with a deputy and his dog. The fact made Alex hungry for patrol time, anxious for the next backup call. “Training’s good, but …” he had to be careful with his words. “I’m concerned about the REA. I have a few leads, guys. I think we can catch them before they strike.”
“I thought I talked to you about that.” Clay sounded like a weary older brother. “SWAT’s aware of the REA. We’re watching them, Brady. We know where they’re meeting. Leave it to us.”
Alex stopped himself from saying anything more. This was the beginning of fire season, and the REA was primed for a hit. He’d been in contact with Owl, but the meeting had been postponed till tomorrow night. Alex still planned to go. What he did on his off time was up to him, as long as he didn’t break any laws.
“Do me a favor, then. Keep an eye on the Oak Canyon Estates, will you? A fire there would be huge.”
“Brady …” Clay didn’t need to say anything else.
“Yes, sir.” Alex worked his jaw one way and then the other. “Am I allowed here at headquarters?”
“Not until we get the report in.” Joe felt bad for him, Alex could tell. “Look, man, don’t you surf?”
Alex worked to control his frustration. “I do. A few times a month ever since I moved here.”
“So go to the beach.” Joe shrugged his shoulders. “A little K9 training, a little time in the sun. Doesn’t sound that bad if you ask me.”
Clay’s face softened some. “Come for dinner Saturday, okay? Jamie’s cooking her world-class lasagna.”
“We’ll be there for sure. The kids love Jamie’s lasagna.” Joe headed for the door and slapped Alex on the shoulder. “Come on, Brady, stop pouting. It’s just two weeks.”
“So?” Clay followed Alex, but he stopped at the door. “You’ll be there?”
Alex reminded himself of the promise he’d made, that whenever he was invited, as far as it was possible, he’d say yes. So that he wouldn’t lose himself completely. He nodded and tried to let a little kindness into his voice. “Yeah, Sarge, thanks. I’ll be there.” He felt the resignation come over him. “What should I bring?”
“A suntan.” Clay grinned once more as he and Joe left the room.
Alex realized he’d been holding his breath, and he exhaled long and slow. A guy was dead because of his gun, and that would stay with him. But he hadn’t had a choice, and it wasn’t fair that he was being taken off the streets — even for two weeks. What if a showdown happened with REA? If anyone should be in on the arrest of a bunch of cowardly arsonists, it was he and Bo. He looked out the window at the tree branches blowing in the distance. The wind had let up, but not for long. It just took one strong day of Santa Anas and the REA could make their move.
He stood, defeated. “Okay, Bo, let’s get going.”
The memory of Holly didn’t find him again until he walked through the front door of his townhouse. She’d been here to his place, but just once. The summer after he left the East Coast, she followed him out here, determined to find her way back to his heart. She’d gotten the address from his mother, and she’d come unannounced.
Alex flopped down on his sofa, and Bo curled up in a ball on the floor beside his feet. “Good boy, Bo.” The dog lifted his eyes, and utter loyalty filled his features. He would’ve destroyed anyone who tried to harm Alex, no question about it. Every breath he drew had one purpose — to protect Alex and the other members of the department. Alex rubbed the spot under the dog’s chin. “Get some rest, Bo. We’ll run later.” The dog settled
back down, and Alex stared at his front door, remembering what it had been like to see Holly that summer day in 2002.
That was before Bo, back when he lived here by himself. He’d just gotten home from a run at Pierce College, and he had four hours before he had to report to his job as a custody assistant at the men’s jail. He was headed for the shower when the doorbell rang. Alex hesitated, suspicious of anyone who would come to his door. He knew no one and had no friends in the area. He was convincing himself the caller must be soliciting one thing or another when he opened the door, and there she was.
Holly.
Like something out of his unrelenting dreams, she stood there, more beautiful than she’d been at their senior grad party — the last time he’d seen her. Older and with more wisdom in her eyes. It took him half a minute before he rebounded enough to say something. When he did, he was still trying to make sense of her standing there. “Holly … what are you … how did you …?”
She laughed, but it sounded more nervous than funny. “Hi.” She didn’t make a move in his direction. “Your mother told me where you lived. I flew in this morning and rented a car.”
The Holly he’d known was confident and charismatic, with a charm and joy that could take over a room. But she was only nineteen, and she seemed overwhelmed by what she’d done. He felt the same way. After all, she’d flown here by herself from New York, rented a car, and navigated the LA freeways all in an attempt to find him. Even knowing that he clearly hadn’t wanted to be found.
Her laughter faded, and she locked eyes with his. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.” Alex could have kicked himself. He didn’t have room in his life for a relationship with Holly, but he had no reason to be rude. “Sorry.” He stepped aside and motioned for her to come in. That’s when he realized he was wearing only the scrap of a muscle shirt and running shorts. He must’ve smelled horrific.
She looked around the dark living room, and he saw it for the first time through the eyes of a visitor. Dishes were stacked on the coffee table, and newspapers were scattered along the sofa. Dirty socks and an occasional towel lay on the floor. Alex managed a weak smile. He couldn’t believe she was here, let alone try to reckon with the condition of his condo. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
The Tuesday Morning Collection Page 76
