Chapter 16
Roman
The next week passed in a steady procession of minor incidents, including a fistfight at last call outside the Rusty Barrel, a small fire on farming land, and a traffic accident that took out the main stoplights in town.
Roman sat through an interminable meeting of the town council mostly hijacked by Peggy Winterburn and her cronies for a lively discussion on speed bumps. He took Dougie with him to the high school, where they conducted an open, no-nonsense talk about the facts, laws, risks and consequences of alcohol and drug use. Millie Westlake, recently back at school and warned in advance, chose to sit it out, but the interaction from other students was rewarding.
Maggie celebrated a birthday and Roman bought in pastries for everyone to share. When Dougie gave her flowers with a flourish and Forsberg and Morgan sang a loud and out-of-tune rendition of Stevie Wonder’.
“Happy Birthday,”
he felt an unfamiliar glow of contentment, grateful to be a part of the small team and its vibrant new energy.
And all the while, in amongst the ordinary, Roman thought of Elenie and what she’d revealed about her life. The simple words, calmly delivered with little self-pity, had turned him inside out. She might not relish being viewed as a victim, but what she was dealing with would have broken someone weaker.
Fuck. He’d been trying to pump her for information at the town fair, and just talking to him had put her in danger. He felt like a monster.
There was a disconcerting jostle against the sides of the cardboard box he’d stuffed his feelings into over the past couple of years. The firmly folded flaps buckled and bowed. The broken body of the girl who’d looked like Florence was giving over her almost-constant presence in his mind to someone very much alive. A waitress with suspicious eyes, a clever mind, and a tentative smile, who would put herself at risk to protect an elderly friend.
Something about Elenie reeled Roman in. He swore to himself he’d provide the backup she needed from now on—for as long as he could. And he wondered if the impact he’d been wanting to make so desperately when he’d chased his career toward the crazy, tough, and violent was waiting for him back home after all.
Halfway through a run of late shifts, Roman was called to a drunk and disorderly at the liquor store. He arrived to find the door pulled shut, blinds open. Nathan Reyes was hovering and rushed to let him in with a grateful smile and an audible huff of relief.
Athena Dax wandered the floor, idly swinging a bottle in each hand and humming softly to herself. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.
“Officer Big and Beautiful! So good to see you again.”
She wore a beige cropped tank with no bra, and pale jeans so tight it looked as if she’d been sewn into them. A silky, knitted cardigan draped off one skinny shoulder and pooled around her elbow. Roman had never seen a woman sashay before, but sashay she did until she stood in front of him, just a little closer than was comfortable. The smell of drink on her breath was overpowering. He exchanged a sideways glance with Nathan, who mouthed the word “Wasted!”
at him just out of Athena’s eyeline.
“I was heading home,”
she purred, reaching up to stroke his chest but hitting him with one of the bottles instead.
“Unless you want to take me for a drink somewhere quiet?”
“You’re not leaving with the vodka unless you pay for it.”
Nathan’s voice was firm.
Athena pouted up at Roman. Everything Elenie had told him ran through his mind and he was hit by a strong wave of repulsion for every way in which her mother had let her down.
“I’ve come out without my purse and I’ve asked him very kindly to put it on my tab. I’ll settle up another time. No big deal.”
“You don’t have a tab.”
Nathan sounded frustrated.
Roman crossed his arms.
“You heard the man,”
he said.
“No money, no booze. Pay for it or put it back.”
Athena tried to outstare him for a minute, hampered by her eyes crossing behind a lank, cherry-red lock of hair that flopped over her face. She wrinkled her nose.
“You are no fun at all.”
Twirling away, she tripped over her own feet and Roman grabbed her elbow to stop her falling. She wrenched it out of his grasp, shooting an icy glare over her shoulder.
“We could have been very good friends but I don’t think you’re my type after all.”
Nathan snorted.
“We all have our crosses to bear,”
Roman said evenly.
“I’ll have to try to live with it.”
Athena shoved one of the bottles under her arm—both men feared for its safety—and squeezed the tips of her fingers into her front pocket. When she pulled out a crumpled pile of bills, Roman wasn’t the least bit surprised.
“Here.”
She slapped them down on the counter.
“Happy now?”
Nathan rang them into the register without comment.
Roman opened the door of the store. “Come on,”
he said to Athena.
“I’ll take you home.”
In the confines of the police car, the smell of alcohol was even stronger. Athena raked thoughtful eyes over him as he drove. It was a quiet night in town. They passed minimal traffic as they left Main Street and headed uphill toward the Daxes’ house.
“So what do you see in my daughter?”
Athena’s voice was harder now. The vodka lay in her lap and she picked at the seam of her jeans.
Roman heard warning bells louder than downtown Detroit.
“I hardly know your daughter.”
“Oh, really?”
Athena mocked him with an arch look. Then she laughed and there was no humor in the sound.
“Take a tip from me and stay well clear. You might have a stick up your ass but you can seriously do better.”
Roman’s hands clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles white. Athena ran a hand through her hair.
“When I was her age, I had so many men chasing me, I could choose a different one every day of the week. There wasn’t a party that took place without me and not a single one where I went on my own.” Her expression soured. “Being an adult is so dull, don’t you think? Less parties, less fun.” She squinted at Roman, eyes unfocused, face bitter. “You don’t look like you have much fun, Chief Straight and Narrow. When was the last time you let your hair down?”
“You sound like my ex,”
Roman murmured as they pulled up a little way from the house.
“So you do date!”
Athena’s mercurial mood shifted again. An alcohol-fueled loose cannon in action, she unclipped her seatbelt and leaned toward him, providing a view straight down the front of her tank top. Elenie’s mother ran her hand up his arm. Her touch was cool, her nails painted and bitten short.
“Good evening, Mrs. Dax. Be careful getting out of the car.”
Roman’s voice was as neutral as he could make it.
For a moment, neither of them moved, then Elenie’s mother sat back. Her eyes clouded.
“Stay well clear,”
she repeated, each word slurring into the next.
Roman held her gaze until she pulled at the handle on her door and spilled out onto the pathway. He expelled a long breath as Athena wobbled away toward the house.