Chapter 17 #2
The voice came over the speakers, so much beauty and fear and angst and hope, and as they headed to the airport, Keely sang along, her voice husky beneath the upbeat tone of the music.
Heartstrings and high notes, let our music start,
Play on the chords that bind unknown hearts.
Reach out through the mystery where you and I might be,
In this dance of life, let’s find our harmony.
Zoey looked at her, still holding the animal. But she’d stopped crying.
Keely started in on the next verse as a text popped up on the screen. She waited until she stopped at a light, about to turn on 75 South, and opened it. Vic.
Just wanted to let you know that Wren took a turn. Her bowel perforated and she’s septic.
So much for the singing.
Keely wanted to cry now too.
But she swiped the text away, merged into traffic . . . and kept singing.
Because that’s what mothers did.
They’d cleared three songs by the time she pulled into the international airport. She headed to the private charter area, and a valet met her there. Her Dassault Falcon sat on the tarmac, fueled, its black nose painted over a white body. She waved to her pilot standing in the doorway.
She hauled Zoey out of the back seat, and the valet retrieved the car seat, carrying it up the stairs to the plane. Keely grabbed the backpack. “Zoey, have you ever been on a plane?”
Zoey shook her head.
“This will be fun, I promise.”
But Zoey didn’t move.
And Keely knelt, met her eyes. “Listen. I know you’re scared. I am too. I don’t know how to be a mommy. But I do know that I’m going to try my very best. So, let’s not be scared together, okay?”
Zoey seemed to consider her for a moment, then nodded.
“Good. We’re going to get on the plane and then we’re going to a place called New York City.”
Zoey’s mouth tightened and Keely couldn’t help but gather her in for a moment, the child’s tiny body pressed against hers, molding there.
Another piece of Keely’s heart clicking into place.
She let her go, and they climbed the stairs. The valet had clipped the car seat onto one of the creamy leather seats, and Keely helped Zoey into it.
“More music?”
Zoey nodded, and Keely sat down and opened up her phone.
The flight attendant closed the door. The pilot had already started his preflight check.
Another text. This from Goldie.
I got your new song. “Hear My Name.”
Are you sure?
She glanced at Zoey, now looking out the window, and texted back.
Did you get the doctor’s report I sent?
Yes. Maybe time would heal—
She considered Zoey.
Or maybe Bliss’s time is done.
She hadn’t really spoken it aloud, but the truth had been sitting inside her since her exam.
The cursor blinked. Three dots, then they disappeared.
Poor Goldie.
Keely pulled up her playlist and continued playing the album, listening, watching Zoey as she held her panda and stared out the window.
Poor Donald. Poor Wren.
Her phone buzzed.
Let’s record it and drop it as a single.
She stared at the message, the cursor blinking. “You’re creative, Keely. Figure it out.”
She looked at Zoey, who had started to kick her seat, almost in beat with the pop music.
“We don’t know him more without risking our heart. And doing the hard thing.”
Okay, here went nothing.
She got up and walked to the cockpit door. Knocked on it.
The pilot opened it. “Ma’am?”
“What would it take to reroute us to Anchorage?”
At least he could walk. It wasn’t pretty, but Dawson had ditched the crutches, and after an entire week, now walked into the Tooth wearing just his knee brace.
About 2400 milligrams of ibuprofen sluiced through his veins.
So, of course, Axel came in behind him, his chauffeur.
Caspian ran ahead and circled back, tail wagging. All clear. He bent and rubbed the dog behind his ears.
Flynn had gotten here first and now pulled a pizza from the oven. She set it on the stovetop. “So?” She took off her oven mitts. She still wore her badge around her neck.
Dawson shrugged out of his black puffer and hung it on a chair. “Torn ligaments but apparently they’ll heal. What kind of pizza?”
“Hawaiian.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Relax. I have a pepperoni in here too.”
Axel walked over to her, gave her a kiss. “We stopped in to see Donald. Wren is still in a medically induced coma.”
“It just goes from bad to worse,” Dawson said, shaking his head.
Axel pulled out a stool and sat down.
Dawson already perched on a stool. He rubbed his thigh. “And Donald is a mess. Says the bills are crazy.”
Flynn frowned.
“No insurance,” Dawson said. “They’ll cut him a rate, but still . . . we’re probably talking hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
She blew out a breath. “The important thing is that she lives.”
“Yeah.”
Caspian put his head on his thigh, of course, clearly sensing stress. He rubbed the dog’s ear. “I’m okay, buddy. Just . . . hate talking to DAs. They always make me feel like I did something wrong.”
Flynn cut the Hawaiian pizza and slid it onto a wooden board. “You’re going to testify?”
“Yeah. I sat and gave a video testimony on Ravak’s case, but I told them they could call me to the stand if they wanted. She said she was going to show the defense my testimony and offer another plea deal. Second-degree, with one count of kidnapping.”
“That’s fifteen to ninety-nine, for just the second-degree alone. He’ll probably never see daylight again.”
Dawson nodded, kept petting Caspian.
“Okay, what has you so wound up?” Flynn asked.
He paused.
She pointed at Caspian.
Oh.
“Caroline’s parents called while he was getting the MRI,” Axel said.
Dawson looked at Axel. “Thank you for that.”
“I’m a detective. I would have figured it out,” Flynn said. “Are you going to call them back?”
Dawson sighed and pulled out his phone. Looked at it. “Yes. But only because it’s the right thing to do. I can’t change the past. I can’t bring her back. And I’m not to blame.”
Silence. He looked up at them. “What?”
Flynn wore a smile, something kind. “Just . . . there’s something different about you. What happened to the dark funk?”
He rubbed his knee. “I’m not doing any Irish jigs over here.”
She threw an oven mitt at him.
He caught it. “Listen. I do need to tell you something.”
Her smile fell. “Oh no. What? You’re not coming back to the police department.”
He stilled. “What? Do you think I shouldn’t?”
“What—no. Of course I don’t.”
“Because you miss me.”
“I . . . I mean, everybody misses you—”
“You’re a little lost without me.”
“I am not lost.” She reached over and took back the thrown oven mitt. “I barely notice you’re gone. I look around, oh, where’s the guy who’s supposed to bring me coffee?”
“I never brought you coffee.”
“You did. Twice.” She fitted on the oven mitt and retrieved the next pizza.
“You did, Daws. I was there.” Axel glanced over at him, grinning.
He rolled his eyes.
She turned, still holding the pizza, set it on a cutting board, then looked at him. “Fine. Maybe I miss you a tiny bit. The kind that happens when you have the flu—you get to miss three days, but you’re miserable the entire time.”
“Oh, that hurt.”
She grinned. “Pizza?”
“Fine. No, I’m not coming back—at least for now. Caspian and I are going to do a little service dog refresher course, and he’s going to work at the hospital.”
“Really. Caspian has a job?”
“Apparently, he’s a PTSD dog. Or, at least, according to Vic, and I made some calls to Midnight Sun Service Dog Organization. They have refresher classes, and they’ll train me to be a handler.”
“Good. Because you need all the help you can get.” She cut the pizza and dished a piece up for him. “Can he sense when you’re being an idiot too?”
His mouth opened.
“It’s been a week since Keely left, and you still haven’t gone after her.”
He blinked, and she held up a hand. “She’s not my favorite after what she said to you at the cabin, but the fact is, you do have a hero complex, and you do always have to save the day, and maybe that is a little bit annoying.”
He just stared at her.
“And yet still loveable,” Axel said.
“Really?”
Axel shrugged, all grins.
Flynn rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying that I saw the woman in Starlight Pizza later that day, and she asked about you. Seemed a little broken up that you’d left Copper Mountain—”
“But I hadn’t—”
“I know. But I thought you were getting a ride with Moose. I didn’t realize you were going to have some sort of family reunion.”
Neither did he.
But it did feel like something had changed in him after spending the weekend with his folks. Seeing them piecing back together their lives.
“You are the good that God gave us in that dark time, son.”
Sure, he felt like a kid again, but it did do a number on the dark funk.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I talked to Vic, and she drove her to Anchorage. She’s gone, back to her life.” He looked at Caspian, who’d curled into sleep at his feet. “And we’re back to ours.”
Silence.
Too long.
He looked at Axel, who gave him a wry face.
“What?”
“Then maybe I shouldn’t show you this.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “It was in the lobby of the hospital. I picked it up while I was waiting for you.”
He slid it across the granite island, and Dawson opened it. His heart gave a hard hammer.
Keely—no, Bliss—in concert, for one night.
“It’s a benefit?”
“For Wren. I tracked down Donald, and according to him, Keely stopped in a couple days ago to see them.”
“She’s in town?”
“Dunno. But the concert is tonight. In about three hours, if you’re interested. It’s just a local venue—I guess it’s too last minute for it to be a big deal.”
“The Frostbite Music Lounge is a big deal,” Dawson said. “And it says here that tickets are . . . seriously. Five hundred dollars each?”
“She hasn’t had a concert in over a year.”
“She can’t sing!”
Flynn’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Her voice—I mean, yes, she can sing. I heard her sing. It was beautiful. But not . . . it wasn’t the Grammys.” Aw. Keely, what are you doing?
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be,” Axel said. “After all, she’s Bliss.”