by Dana Mason
“We still have to go in front of a judge but the hard stuff is done. I’ve been working on it since the morning after we got back from Mendocino.”
“Oh my God!” He stood up quickly and pulled her into an embrace that rivaled the one he gave her when she got out of the car. “Excellent news.” His voice was coated with emotion.
“Thank you for loving my son.”
He nodded into her hair and said, “I love both your sons, Ali.”
“I know you do.”
“I love you too . . .” He held her for a long moment then said, “I have something for you.”
Ali withdrew slightly to look into his eyes.
“Alison, you and your boys are the most important people in my life,” Johnny said. “I’ve never in all my life felt like this . . .” He reached out and took both her hands.
Ali nodded her stomach fluttering like crazy. She kept waiting for the but . . . I love you, but . . . I want you, but . . . it was par for the course in her life. So when Johnny slowly slid down on one knee, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. A moment later he pulled out a small white velvet box.
She gasped and her stomach instantly filled with butterflies. “What are you doing?”
He popped the box open to not one but two rings. She instantly recognized the ring her mother had worn since the day her father had proposed all those years ago. Tears spilled from her eyes and she mouthed the words, “My daddy’s ring.” Her hand drifted to her lips, overcome with emotion.
It took her a long time to control the tears. Her mother treasured that ring. It was the one thing of her daddy’s that she never ever parted with. When Ali could find her voice she said, “I’ve never seen my mother take this off . . . but”—she looked closer—“that’s not her wedding band.”
“That, darlin,’ is my mother’s ring.”
“Oh . . .” Ali said, and she met his eyes. His were full of warmth . . . belonging and just as much emotion as Ali felt in her heart.
“It’s one of the few things recovered from the fire. She didn’t have a big expensive diamond, but she wore this ring every day until the day she died.” He cleared his throat and seemed to gather his wits and said, “Alison, will you marry me? Be my wife and the mother of my son?” He smiled and Ali felt a rush of sheer joy as she looked down at him.
“Yes . . . of course I will marry you.”
Praise for Broken Embrace
“Seduced by Mason’s dynamic prose and emotional sensitivity, Broken Embrace effortlessly engages the reader into a vortex of pain and treachery, of enduring love and unfulfilled dreams, of hope and second chances, while dealing with every woman’s greatest fear and every man’s worst nightmare. And yet, the story, steeped in reality and authenticity, manages to deftly maneuver the reader into the land of happily-ever-after. This book will strike fear in your heart while it wrings out every emotion. Do not even think of missing it.”
~Nancy S. Thompson, Author of The Mistaken and Leverage
“Broken Embrace so far is my second favorite story in the Embrace Series. I love Melissa. She’s realistic, likable and different. She’s a wounded heart and I got emotionally attached to her character easily. Brian, he’s a wounded heart hero so he’s a bit different than the other heroes in the Embrace series. I enjoyed watching him grow throughout the book though I did want to jerk a knot in his noggin a time or two. Erin, I was so wrapped up in what she was going through, I had to put it down but wanted to pick the book right back up. Overall, Broken Embrace is an emotional romantic suspense perfect for those who love the edge of your seat books.”
~Tobi Helton, Forget the Housework, I’m Reading . . .
Dedication
For Grandma
Acknowledgements
There is a trio of ladies who have been instrumental in getting this books published. I need to give a special thanks to Nancy S. Thompson. Thank you for being so smart and patient. Lisa Regan, thank you for hating Mondays as much as I do, and for always listening and reading. Carrie Butler, you are certainly one of the most generous authors I’ve met. Thank you for the time you’ve taken to help your fellow authors, including me. I hope all three of you know how much I appreciate your friendship.
Thank you members of D.A.M.N, you know who you are. We’re an eccentric group, but that makes us a family.
Valerie Neumark Mickela, thank you for the long hours and all your help. You’re immensely talented and such a great friend! Broken Embrace would still be a lame Word doc on my laptop if it weren’t for you.
Linda McMann, Nancy Alexander, Katie Mettner, and Tobi Helton, thank you for helping me shape this into an interesting story. I truly appreciate the time you’ve spent helping me turn this into an enjoyable story. Your feedback and honesty is very important to me.
Elizabeth, Kaitlin, and Trevor, I love you! Always remember to follow your dreams.
Jim, you’re my rock. Thank you for always being here for me. To my friends and family, thanks for your constant support and encouragement.
Chapter One
Detective Brian Hammel shook hands with the Sebastopol Police Chief and nodded his thanks. Brian hadn’t gained much information from the visit, but he had gained an ally, and that surpassed anything else. One could not have too many friends in law enforcement, especially when investigating a case like this.
“I’ll let you know what we come up with,” he said.
“We’ll do the same. Thanks for driving out, Detective Hammel.” Chief Lee Morgan looked over at Brian’s partner, Johnny Rhay Bennett. “You, too, Detective Bennett.” He shook his hand. “It’s a small town. We don’t often have to deal with this kind of stuff.”
“Hey.” Brian chuckled, not that it was funny at all. He pushed open the heavy glass door and squinted at the sun glaring in his face. “It’s a first for me, too,” he said as the chief followed him out into the sweltering heat.
One hundred and four degrees on the Friday before Labor Day. California was in store for another Indian summer. What he’d give for a steady, cool rain every day of the year. Typically as temperatures went up, so did crime, and he already had enough work to do. Brian glanced back at the chief, and wished like hell he and his partner hadn’t had to drive out from Santa Rosa to inform him of the potential disaster brewing in Sebastopol’s largest preschool.
“I’ll work with the administration at the preschool and let them know about Ackerman. Hopefully, we won’t find any victims,” Morgan said.
“I think that’s best, too.” Brian rested his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. “None of the photos we collected were of kids that small, but it doesn’t mean he’s not guilty of other forms of abuse.”
“We’d like to talk to the admin, too. Talk to Ackerman’s boss, ask about his work habits, interests,” Johnny said.
“Right.” Morgan nodded. “I’ll pass on your card. They’ll be closed for the holiday weekend, but I’ll make sure they call you next week.”
Brian snatched at the smoking hot door handle and let the wave of heat escape the car before sliding onto the hot-as-hell vinyl seats. He immediately started the car and cranked the air on high then waited a moment before closing his door. His seat was hot enough; he didn’t want to scorch his hands on the steering wheel of fire, as well.
He maneuvered the car onto Wallace, scanning the street ahead of him. Sebastopol was a quiet little town about ten minutes from downtown Santa Rosa. It certainly didn’t look like the breeding ground for pedophiles. Then again, things were never as they seemed.
“So what is the age range on those kids again?” Brian asked.
Johnny flipped a page in the file. “They’re just babies. These here are between twelve and sixteen.”
“And what’s the likelihood there are more? Pretty damn likely if you ask me. This shit is like an addiction. Once they start, they can’t stop.”
“Nasty shit,” Johnny said. “Who the hell gets off on naked, twelve-year-old boys?”
“I’ve n
ever seen this in Santa Rosa. You ever see a kiddy porn case when you worked in Nashville?”
“No, but I worked homicide. Give me a murderer over a pedophile any day of the week. I say we castrate every damn one of ’em.”
Brian turned off Wallace onto North Main Street. “Let’s run this down again. We got one guy, Scott Ackerman—worked as a teacher at the Sebastopol preschool—two dozen photos, and six different kids, all boys between twelve and sixteen. What am I missing?”
“He’s originally from SoCal. He’s not married and has no kids of his own.”
“No, there’s something else.” Brian snapped his fingers and pointed at Johnny. “The guy doesn’t own any camera equipment, at least none we’ve found.”
“So he’s not taking the pics himself. He’s got a producer, and you know what that means, partner.”
“It means there’s a lot more of this stuff around.” Brian held the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. This case was killing him. Of all the things he’d seen in his years as a cop, this one would not come together for him. “Let’s hope to hell we don’t have ourselves a child porn network operating out of Santa Rosa.”
“Maybe he brought this crap up with him when he moved from down south.”
Brian wished like hell he believed that, but he had a sick feeling about this case, sick enough to keep him up at night. “Martinez is sure they’re local Santa Rosa boys. He’s at the Community Center now. He thinks some of the pictures might have been taken there.”
The light switched to green and Brian turned left onto Bodega Avenue. He slowed for a car that had stopped in front of O’Farrell’s Pub with its hazard lights flashing.
“It’s a red zone, jerk, move your ass.”
The passenger door opened and a pair of female legs swung out. The woman leaned in and kissed the driver, lingering intimately as her hand lifted to cup the driver’s face, holding him close for another moment.
Brian slammed the palm of his hand down on the horn. “Come on, I need to get back to town!”
Johnny motioned to the left. “Just squeeze around him; you’ll fit.”
“Ah, damn it, I’ve got shit to do,” Brian groaned, turning the wheel to drive around. At the same time, the passenger got out, waving to the driver as she stepped up on the curb. The car pulled away.
“Hey, is that—” Couldn’t be Julie. “Mother fucker!” Brian squinted to get a better look then turned to Johnny, who was also watching the woman.
Brian looked back to his wife and found her staring at him, eyes wide. Julie quickly turned and walked in the other direction.
“What the hell?” Brian accelerated and popped the curb, parking half on the sidewalk and half on the street. How could she walk away and ignore him after he’d watched her get out of some jerk’s car? Brian threw his car in park and snapped the door handle.
Johnny caught his arm. “Take a breath first, Brian.”
“Did you see—who was that guy?”
“You’re on the job. You can’t go out there with guns blazing.”
“Screw the job!” Brian jumped out with a racing heart. “What the hell, Jules?” he shouted.
She stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“What are you doing?” he said, walking up behind her. “Who was that guy?”
She turned. Guilt oozed out of her. “Brian.” She glanced around as several patrons stepped out of O’Farrell’s. “Don’t do this here.” She held up a placating hand. “Let’s go home and talk.”
Brian took a step closer. “Who’s the guy, Julie?”
“Don’t do this, Brian.”
“Me!” He poked his chest with a finger then turned it on her. “You’re the one out here whoring around.”
Her eyes finally met his, narrowing. “You asshole! As if you give a damn. You’re a blind, ignorant son of a bitch!”
“Are you kidding me right now?” He dropped his hands to his hips. “Seriously, are you joking?” Julie’s indignation pissed him off even more. How had she turned this around on him?
She shook her head, her shoulders slumping as she turned, waving him away. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”
Before he could respond, she was two strides away, walking toward the parking lot.
“You’re walking away? Giving me nothing? I can’t believe this.” He lurched forward and grabbed her arm.
She froze, still averting her eyes. “Let go,” she said over her shoulder.
Johnny grasped Brian’s arm, and at the same time, Julie tugged free.
“Who was that guy, Julie?” he shouted, but she kept walking.
“Stop, Bri,” Johnny said. “Not the place.” He pulled on Brian’s arm, eyeing the crowd that had collected. “You’ve had enough trouble at work. Save this for home.”
Chapter Two
Brian whipped his car out of the police parking garage. He could not get the picture of Julie kissing that guy out of his head. He pounded the steering wheel and followed Sonoma Avenue toward the freeway.
He’d never believed she was capable of cheating on him. It wasn’t in her character. Their best friends, Mark and Ali, had split up after an affair, and it had devastated Julie. She’d even stopped speaking to Ali for months after. Julie constantly complained about the country’s divorce rate, bitching about families breaking up. “What about the kids,” she’d complained. But what about their own kids? How was she going to explain this to them, much less him?
How would they move on from this? She could have done anything and been forgiven. But this? He wasn’t so sure. He’d given up everything for Julie, and now she’d given up everything for another man.
Brian parked and gazed up at the building in front of him. He hadn’t even realized where he was going until he stopped the car. “What the hell are you doing here?” he muttered, staring at the two-story warehouse.
He spotted Melissa’s car so he knew she was home. “Huh—home,” he scoffed. Who in the hell talked her into buying this monster to live in? Why a freaking warehouse off Bellevue Avenue? Why did she move back here? Was she trying to torture him by mending her relationship with Julie and pretending to be his “friend”? Melissa hated him. It was obvious every time she looked—or more appropriately—glared at him.
Julie had told him all about the warehouse Melissa had bought, and she’d asked him several times to come over with her to see it. He’d driven by, but for the life of him he didn’t know why he cared—or why he’d come here now.
His eyes searched the high windows on the top floor where Melissa’s loft apartment sat above the big, empty warehouse. She planned to rent the warehouse to a business and live upstairs in the loft. Johnny told him she wanted to remodel the upstairs to include a photography studio. Fine, a photography studio he understood, but why buy the whole damn warehouse?
Melissa Parker. Her name sent an all too familiar ache to his chest. Their tangled past was something he had never quite let go of. It’s funny how old habits never die. When they were kids, he talked to her about everything—anything—and everything. For most of his life she had been that person for him, and here he was, in need of a friend. He’d be lucky if she didn’t throw him out . . . but he knew she wouldn’t. She’d extended the olive branch to him and Julie first. She’d forgiven them for what they’d done, and now she wanted to be friends again. Her forgiveness didn’t bring any relief to his guilt. If anything, he only felt worse. He simply didn’t deserve her forgiveness and he knew it, but more than that, he wasn’t sure he trusted it. She’d hated him for years after he broke her heart. Yet, here she was, back in Santa Rosa, trying to make nice.
Brian shook his head again and lowered his eyes to his hands clamped onto the steering wheel. Why am I here? Melissa can’t help me figure out Julie. If anything she’d cheer at his misery. Even so, he climbed out of the car and walked to the side door of the building where a welcome mat lay, and the numbers on the door read twenty-four thirty. Under the peephole, she’d taped a note.
“Wonderful,” he sneered. “Invite every Tom, Dick, and Harry into your apartment. Great thinking, Melissa.”
Brian made a mental note to talk to Mark about the security. He pried the heavy door open with a metal-on-metal screech and walked through, surprised by the bright hall with its fresh white paint and the polished wood handrail trailing up the stairs. He expected dingy and dark, but looking up, he found the source of light. A huge open skylight let in a gentle breeze and a whole lot of sun.
Brian climbed the stairs and walked directly into her familiar scent lingering in the hall, laughing at him. He held his breath and wanted to slam his head into the wall for even considering talking to her. What a lousy idea. He glowered at the door when Melissa’s laughter sounded from the other side, along with a rustle and a man’s voice. He started to turn back when the door swung open.
Melissa yanked the handle on a howl of laughter. She had a man’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into the room. Her long, blonde hair hung around her flushed face as she laughed with a wide, open-mouthed smile.
Brian’s and Melissa’s eyes met, and the smile slipped from her face. She pushed at the arm around her, straightening up. A jolt of electricity surged through Brian’s chest before spreading throughout his body to the tips of his fingers and toes. He’d never get used to the hurt and disappointment in her eyes every time she looked at him.
“What’s wrong?” She took a step toward him, forcing him to shuffle backward.
He scanned her boyfriend, trying to hide the disgust burning in his stomach as his eyes landed on the little wire-rimmed glasses sitting on the man’s nose. “Sorry. I’ll come back another time.” He turned back to the stairs.
