Chapter 16 #2
Donald turned and caught up to his daughter. Shep and Boo were loading her into the chopper as London did her preflight check. Shep waved, grinning.
“I’m not giving him back!” Dawson yelled, not sure why, as Caspian sat next to him.
He stood there as they closed the door. Then he dropped a hand on Caspian, who leaned against him, and backed away as the chopper fired up and took off. He watched it go.
Maybe he should have gone with them.
And just like that, it was over. The sky clear, the storms gone.
The chase, the fear, the danger—
Hope.
And again, he was left standing, a little in pain, just him and his dog.
“Of course I knew who you were.”
Vic sat at a table in the Starlight Pizza, sharing a Twilight special with Keely—pepperoni and mushroom, green peppers, and a mozzarella-filled crust.
Genes apparently included pizza topping preferences.
Thankfully, Keely hadn’t hurt Nora’s feelings when she turned down the venison stew. She seemed to understand Vic’s need to talk someplace private.
Private clearly meant a table next to the window in the pizza joint. Still, they sat in the corner, the place not crowded, the alluring scents of baking bread and tomato sauce sneaking from a kitchen busy with take-out orders.
Their spot in the corner overlooked the town, and Keely kept glancing out the window, searching for a glimpse of Caspian, or maybe Dawson.
A fist closed around her heart at the idea of leaving town without saying goodbye.
Or . . . maybe . . . what if? Because her stupid words stuck inside her like paste. “I don’t need a hero, Dawson. And you need to stop always trying to save the day.”
Um, she very much needed a hero. And if he stopped trying to save the day, she might be dead in a frozen creek bed, or even shot in the head at a cabin, and she wasn’t being even a little dramatic.
But Vic’s words had her attention too. She set down her slice of pizza. “You did?”
“Of course I did. Your dad and mom sent me pictures of you growing up. They knew what it cost me to give you away, and they were . . . well, your mom was sympathetic. She couldn’t have kids—”
“I know.”
“Maybe that gave her grace. Anyway, I’ve been following you and your career for years.” She stirred her Coke with a straw. “I might have even downloaded a few of your albums. And caught the Grammys.”
“You saw the glitter suit.”
Vic laughed. “You have more courage than me.”
She didn’t know about that. “It took plenty of courage to give me up, right?” She didn’t quite mean it as a question, but . . .
“Everything I had.” Vic leaned forward, pushed her plate away. “You should know that your dad and I loved each other. And, by the way, we were married. So, there was no . . . well, no affair. Although, we did have to keep it secret, so that the chief wouldn’t split us up.”
“He was your partner.”
“In every way. I was wildly in love with him, but we were also a team. Undercover together for five years, working in the gangs department. He’d gone in before me, so when he brought me in, it was as his girlfriend.” She lifted a shoulder. “After a while, we didn’t have to pretend.”
It almost sounded romantic.
“We were trying to get out—we’d gotten wind of a big drug shipment coming in and told the DEA agents. They came in too early, blew Max’s cover, and the gang killed him.”
A story flashed through her eyes, and she looked away.
Keely didn’t want to know the details. “And you ran.”
“I did. I went into hiding until the trial, and by then, it was clear I was pregnant. I was terrified that someone would find us, and I knew I couldn’t run with a newborn, so .
. .” She met Keely’s eyes. “I reached out to his brother. He was a cop in Minneapolis. His wife, Anne, was . . . she was amazing. Kind and sweet and really wanted a child, and I knew that Jimmy would do everything in his power to protect you. So yes. I fled to Minnesota, gave birth, signed the adoption papers, and vanished. For years, I got my mail at a PO box in Anchorage. When I heard that the gang leader, Razor, had died, I ditched the box. Maybe I thought you’d find me one day . . .” She offered a smile.
“Dad gave me Mom’s journal when she died. She’d written down the address for the old PO box, and I hired a PI to finish the trail.”
Vic sat back. “Why didn’t you say something in the Midnight Sun that day?”
“Why didn’t you?”
A slow smile. “You would have made a good cop.”
Keely smiled back. “Sorry. That’s . . . my dad. He always said—never answer a question.”
Vic laughed, a deep chuckle. Funny, Keely always thought she got her voice from her birth mother, but Vic possessed a gravelly, low tone. Sort of like how Keely had sounded when she sang at the community.
“I wanted to give you the space you needed,” Vic said quietly. “I didn’t know why you showed up, but I didn’t want to spook you. I suppose I did anyway. If I had known you were getting on a plane, I probably would have chased you down.”
Keely looked away, out to the street, her throat tight.
An SUV pulled up to the sheriff’s office, and her breath caught when a man—cuffed and angry—was wrestled from the back seat. “They caught him. Or at least one of them.”
Vic turned, craning her neck to see down the street. “Good job, Deke.”
Keely kept her gaze pinned, watching.
Dawson didn’t emerge from the car, nor was he in the second SUV that pulled up.
Oh.
“You looking for Dawson?”
She glanced at Vic. “Um. No.”
Vic raised an eyebrow. “I know when someone is lying, Keely.”
She sat back. Drew in a breath. “Maybe.”
“He seemed pretty concerned about you. Did you know that he hiked in nearly a mile through the snow to get into position? I had a feeling that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.” She cocked her head. “I think he’s in love with you.”
And now her eyes burned too. “It’s . . . it’s . . .” She met Vic’s gaze. “You know my life. It’s impossible.”
“I know the life you had. And I hear your voice today, and . . .” She leaned forward. “I believe everything happens for a reason.”
Keely didn’t flinch. “Even your husband dying and you having to give me away?”
A beat. Vic didn’t move. Then, “Yes. As hard as it was, yes.” She leaned back. “I’ve had a good life here. Quiet. Friendly. Sure, it’s not the life I’d planned, but I knew you were safe, so . . . yeah. I’m at peace.”
“So, you’d do it again?”
“Do what?”
“Give me up.” She met her gaze.
Vic drew in a long breath. “Wow.”
“I just . . .” Keely shook her head. “I didn’t come here just to . . . meet you, Vic.” Her mouth tightened. “I need to know. If you had to do it all again, would you give me away?” She couldn’t look at her, closed her eyes.
“Keely,” Vic said softly, in that low voice. “Is that what you think I did—gave you away?”
She opened her eyes. Nodded.
“I never gave you away. There wasn’t a day that I didn’t think about you.
Wasn’t a day that I didn’t pray God was watching over you.
Wasn’t a day that you weren’t stuck, dead center, in my heart.
I might not have been present to raise you, but I can guarantee you that I never gave you away.
I held on to loving you. But I also let go to allow you to live the life I couldn’t give you. ”
Now Vic’s eyes turned glossy, and she shook her head. “Sheesh. I have a reputation to keep.” She wiped her cheek, fast, hard. But then smiled at Keely. “I don’t think any mother can truly erase her child out of her heart.”
Keely nodded.
“But that’s the brutality of it. Because it doesn’t mean we don’t have to make terrible, hard, painful decisions for the good of that child. So, would I do it again? If it meant you turned into the beautiful, smart, caring, successful woman I see before me? You betcha.”
Keely also wiped a hand across her cheek.
Vic considered her a moment. “Why was that answer so important that you had to hop a plane and travel four thousand miles?”
Oh.
And right then, the door to Starlight Pizza opened, a bell jangling.
Vic looked up. “Flynn.”
Keely turned. The redhead from the cabin. The cop who knew Dawson.
“Hey, Vic. How are you?” Flynn glanced at Keely. “And you—you okay?” She pointed to Keely’s cheek. “That’s a doozy.”
Keely nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
Vic wore something of a smirk.
Fine. “Um . . . did Dawson . . . um . . .”
Flynn drew herself up, her mouth a little tight, maybe even protective. “He was injured taking down the suspect.”
Keely gasped.
“He’s going to be fine. Hurt his knee.” She crossed her arms. “Last I knew, he was going to hitch a ride with Moose to Anchorage.”
Right.
Flynn sighed then, loosened her stance. “We do need you to stop by the station and give a statement, when you have the chance.”
Keely nodded.
Flynn glanced at Vic. “Axel wants me to bring home some ribs.”
“Swing by the Sun, I’ll get a box made up for you. On the house.”
Flynn looked back at Keely. “Your Heartstrings and High Notes album was my favorite.” She offered a tight smile, then walked away.
Huh.
“I liked that one too.” Vic.
“It was an early one. I wrote all my own music on that one.”
“Mm-hmm.” Vic leaned forward. “Seemed to me you lost a little heart after that.”
She met Vic’s gaze. “I had a baby that I gave up for adoption.”
Maybe Keely should have softened it, but she had to get it out, just in case she lost her courage.
Vic breathed out, then nodded. “I see.”
“It was a mistake. My dad got remarried, and I was . . . he was . . . anyway, it was a dark time, and I ended up dating—”
“Chase Sterling.” Vic shook her head, leaning back. “I never liked him.”
And she sounded so much like . . . like a mom, that it just reached in and balmed all the raw, broken edges. “Yeah.”
“Shallow, sort of a jerk.”
“Completely. And when he found out I didn’t have an abortion, he was mad.”
“I’ll bet.” Vic’s eyes narrowed. “Did your father know?”
“No. He never knew.”
Questions hung in Vic’s eyes.
“It’s a long story, but he is . . . not in my life.”