Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
She started to speak, but his fury came on so hot, so fast, it stunned her to silence.
“You didn’t let him beat you, rape you, strangle you.
Trauma’s the big goddamn boulder dropped into the pond.
The pond doesn’t let the boulder hit. It doesn’t have a choice.
And the boulder causes waves and ripples that take as long as they take to subside.
He’s responsible, not you, so fuck the you-let bullshit. ”
“Well.” She had to take a breath. “That’s both comforting and logical.”
“Fuck that, too. It’s just truth. Jesus, Arden, you don’t blame someone for PTSD, you blame what caused it.”
“I’ve seriously pissed you off.”
“Stupid pisses me off. Don’t be stupid.”
She thought about it. “I’m going to let that slide because comforting, logical, and oddly supportive. If they set the tour, I’m doing it.”
“Good.”
“Would you like to know why?”
“Because you’re not stupid.”
“No, I’m not. But more. I realized even inside the thrill of having this offered to me, my knee-jerk was to make excuses why I couldn’t.
Just shut it out, which struck me as the same thing as sticking a chair under the doorknob, and I’m not going back there.
Maybe I opened my world moving here, but I’ve still kept it pretty narrow. That’s done.
“The first time they put him away, it wasn’t enough.
My part in that was passive. Not my fault,” she said quickly, “so don’t trip the wire again.
But this time, it’s going to be enough, and the enough starts now.
He’s been in my head, lurking there, all this time.
I’m pushing him out. Locking him out. Yes, I need him caught, put away, then he’s done. He’s in the Hatchback of Destiny.”
“The what?”
“A visual I got from Jamie. He’s trapped in a hatchback beater, screaming as it drives over a cliff and crashes in a fiery ball.”
“Huh. Good visual. You’re not passive.” He gave her braid a tug. “You took steps all along.”
“The best one was coming here. And because it was, I have something for you. Then I have to get these fillets on.”
She opened a drawer, took out a box.
Curious, he took off the lid, then shifted his gaze to hers. “A key ring.”
“You said ring, you didn’t specify what kind.”
He took it out, held it up. “A police badge.”
“A chief of police badge, you’ll note.”
“Yeah, I see that.” He pulled out his old key ring, worked the keys off, worked them on the new one.
“I take that as a yes.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“But…” As he walked out, she looked down at Zorro. “Did you see that? I propose to the man, and he walks away. That doesn’t bring joy or build confidence.”
In sympathy, Zorro leaned on her leg.
“And the crazy? I love him anyway.”
She got out a skillet, the fillets. She began to pat them dry when he came back in.
“Hold off on that a minute.”
“I’m hungry, so—”
He tugged her around, pushed a box in her hand.
She knew a ring box when she held one.
“Oh” was all she could manage.
“You didn’t do the one-knee thing. Don’t look for that from me.”
Because she didn’t move, he reached over, flipped up the lid.
“Oh,” she managed again. “It’s beautiful.”
“It was my grandmother’s.”
As her eyes flooded, she looked up at him. “That makes it even more beautiful.”
“I take that as a yes.”
“Make it official.” She held out her left hand. “Put it on.” When he did, she watched it sparkle on her finger. “It fits.”
“I took that ring you wear sometimes with it into the jeweler. They sized it down a little. Not much. She had long, slim fingers, too.”
He linked their fingers. “I love you, Arden. I want to spend my life with you. Make a life and a family with you. So.” He held up his key ring. “That’s a yes.”
Tears spilled as she laughed, as she threw her arms around him. Her mouth met his. “That’s a yes. We’re going to frustrate each other.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Me, too. We’re a perfect match.” Easing back, she framed his face. “After you kiss me again, I have to take a picture of the ring, on my finger, and send it out.”
“Send it out where?”
“To Zoey, and Aunt Jen, April, Jamie, and absolutely to Joe.”
“Why?”
“Reasons.”
“I’m not sending a picture of my ring out to people.”
She stroked his cheek. “Not even to Joe? Or Reg?”
“No.” He had to admit, it was a pretty cool key ring. “Maybe,” he muttered, and kissed her again.
That night she dreamed of dancing with him in the moonlight. She wore a billowy white gown and flowers in her hair. With the air perfumed with blooms and blossoms, and his eyes on hers, even the shadows held love.
As she dreamed, Dustin drove toward the house. He had the gun if he needed it, and anticipated using the zip ties, the duct tape.
He knew he’d want to make love to her the minute he touched her, woke her, but promised himself he’d wait until he’d finally taken her home.
He wondered if she slept naked. If she did, he couldn’t be expected to resist. Maybe she slept naked tonight because, somewhere in her heart and mind, she knew he was coming for her.
He felt himself go hard as he passed the dark silhouette of her closest neighbor’s house. Still a good distance, and no lights so no one to see him find a way in to Arden.
Her heart and mind might have told her to leave the door unlocked for him. But if not, he’d find a way.
They were meant to be together, so he was meant to find a way.
Switching off his lights—no point taking chances—he coasted the last few feet, started to turn into her driveway.
In the pale light of the moon, he saw the truck. The big pickup. A man’s truck, just like he intended to have once they’d settled.
For an instant, his heart soared. She’d bought him a truck, just exactly what he wanted for their life together in the mountains.
Then it struck him, a thousand brutal fists.
The bitch wasn’t alone in bed. She wasn’t waiting for him. No, she was in there, in bed with some big yahoo with more muscle than brains.
She cheated on him like the whore she was.
The rage screamed through him so he gripped the wheel, shaking it so violently he expected it to snap off in his hands.
He’d kill them both. He had the gun. He’d break in, find them, kill them. Maybe the shotgun. He’d blow them to bloody pieces as they slept.
He eased out of the car, started back to the trunk to retrieve the shotgun case.
An owl loosed a long call, and made him jump.
What if they weren’t asleep? What if the yahoo had a gun?
He didn’t know where they were in the house.
Besides, a quick death? Too good for both of them.
“Need to teach her a lesson.” He hissed it between his teeth, but he trembled as he got back in the car.
He’d return when she was alone.
She’d pay dearly for cheating on him with some truck-driving asshole. He had to keep her alive and make her pay.
The next morning, Arden made her latte while Gideon fried bacon.
“Do you want any of this? Bacon, eggs over easy.”
“No. Listen, I don’t want to be one of those crazy brides.”
“Picture my relief.”
“But I’d really like to set a date.”
“Anytime’s fine.”
“Well, no, even non-crazy brides have tons to do before a wedding. And I want an actual wedding. Family, friends, flowers.”
“Okay.”
She rolled her eyes. Let the frustration begin.
“Your choice of suit or tux.”
He slid his gaze in her direction. “Suit. Firm on it.”
“I return your okay. I thought July. They’re pushing my book to a June release so they can market it as a summer read, beach read. So July would give me a good buffer. Plus, both Zoey and April will have had their babies. Uncle Doug and Aunt Jen would be out here.”
“I happen to have an open schedule in July.”
“I thought here? The gardens in the back are well established, and we could add to that. A real wedding, but it doesn’t have to be formal.”
“I like here.”
“I want Nick to make the cake.”
“To that I say duh. Who else?”
Sipping her latte, she decided she’d find a dress that would blow that casual whatever right out of him.
“I want to get married in the sunlight—I’ll take rain if it happens—and dance in the moonlight. You do dance, right?”
He pulled out the bacon to drain, cracked eggs in the pan. “Did you see my mother in Foot the Bill? Or Enchanted Me?”
“I did, both. Just because your mom can dance doesn’t mean you can.”
“What kind of dancing? Tap, jazz, ballroom?”
She grinned as she started to make her morning smoothie. “You cannot tap-dance.”
“Can if I want. I don’t want.”
Truly stunned, she stopped. “Are you serious? This is a revelation even beyond the ability to make bread from yeast and flour. Prove it.”
“No.”
“Come on, come on. One little whatever.” She did her version of a quick tap and made him grin.
“What was that?”
“I have no clue. Show me up.”
To shut her up, he did a quick time step.
Her mouth dropped open. “Do that again.”
“No.”
“Maybe you could teach me.”
“Maybe one night when we’ve had a lot of adult beverages.”
“I’m going to make that happen.” She snagged a strip of bacon.
“You said you didn’t want any.”
“I changed my mind. I’m knocking off work early today. I’m going into Riverbend, stopping in to see Joe. I want to thank him for entrusting me with Colleen’s ring.”
“He’ll appreciate that.” He slid eggs onto a plate, added the bacon, then the toast that popped up.
“Then I’m hitting the grocery store, so if there’s something you want, put it on that phone app I told you to download.”
“I can just tell you this was the last of the bacon.”
“Download the app, Chief.” She pulled her phone out of her pajama bottom pocket, added bacon.
“If you pick up some chicken, I’ll grill it, and do the rest.”
She added that.
“Get a receipt—the food’s my bill.”
“How about we just tally that up once a month?”
“That works.”
“And so do I.” She leaned down to kiss him. “I’m going up to do that. Be a good cop.”
If he’d known how to be a different kind, he thought, he wouldn’t be sitting here eating bacon and eggs watching the woman he loved walk away with her dog, and thinking July seemed like a fine time to get married.
Halfway through his shift, Brill called.
“Detective.”
“Chief. I’m standing here with my partner, looking at a bunch of snow and mountains. We’re in the Olympic Mountains.”
“You got him?”
“No, sorry to say. We both had vacation time coming, talked to our captain about using it. He’s as frustrated with how the search has bogged down as we are. We’re out here officially for the next few days.”
“Welcome to the Pacific Northwest. No sign of him?”
“None. We talked to the couple who take care of the place, and they haven’t heard from him. It’s a hell of a place and not a damn thing like a cabin. Cabins, in my experience, don’t have butler’s pantries and billiard tables.”
“He won’t have a chance to enjoy it.”
“No, he won’t. We thought we’d drive down tomorrow, maybe later today, brainstorm in person if that suits you. We’d like to see how Arden’s doing.”
“It suits me. I think she’d like to see you. She’s doing fine. She’ll do better when he’s caught.” What the hell, he thought. “We’re engaged.”
“No shit? Well, congratulations. I’ll let you know when we head your way.”
“You won’t need snow gear, but expect rain later this afternoon through the night.”
“We’ll buy umbrellas.”
When he hung up, he looked at the map on the wall.
The ones who’d taken Dubecki down the first time, he thought. He had a feeling, and it got stronger as he let it come, they’d be around when he went down this time.
And go down he would. They’d all but papered Riverbend with Dubecki’s photo, the description of the car. He’d still had the Mercedes in Colorado.
Every hotel, B&B, the outlying motels had that picture, that description. Every officer on his force had their eyes peeled for him. Add the state police.
He wouldn’t slip through again.
But because he had that buzz, he got up, walked out into his bullpen. “Hawk, I’m going to do a little cruising. Tap me if you need me.”
“You got it.”