Color of Love (39 page)

Jason’s expression was guarded. He rubbed his hand across her shoulders. “It’s just a threat, don’t worry about it. He won’t get a chance to do anything. And I can’t help him this time.”

Leah turned to him and gave him a brief hug. “Why don’t I go on home? I’m in the way here and I’m starting to feel like …”

He nodded in agreement.

Leah swallowed and lowered her gaze so that he couldn’t see her reaction. After a brief word to the others Jason led her down to the main entrance. There was no conversation as he searched the streets until spotting a yellow medallion and whistled to the driver to stop.

Leah got obligingly into the cab, but she didn’t really want to go home. She didn’t want to leave Jason right then. She was afraid to. She didn’t want either of them to be alone. She had seen Jason work hard to gain the boys’ trust, to direct them in making better choices for themselves. In her mind that made him special. But again she’d seen the part of his life that made her insecure and frightened. Jason lived too close to danger. Leah wasn’t sure if he recognized it anymore as danger.

He slammed the back door of the cab shut and leaned on the lowered window ledge toward her. She didn’t want to let him go yet, and she knew that she had to.

“Do you want me to wait for you?”

Jason thought about it but then shook his head wearily. “I don’t know. I’m going to be awhile. I’m sorry about tonight.”

Leah tried to smile as she briefly covered his hand. “I think you’re more disappointed than I am. You had a lot invested in those guys. I was afraid of them.”

“You never showed it,” Jason said in some surprise.

Her smile got warmer. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Jason looked at her steadily for a long time. It was as if he had suddenly gained a revelation from her admission. He turned his hand over to quickly grab and squeeze Leah’s.

“I’ll call as soon as I can,” Jason said as the cab began to pull away.

Leah didn’t turn around to wave at him, convinced that he would have already walked back to his responsibilities. And she was certain that if she turned and didn’t see Jason, she would only start to cry. She was suddenly afraid she was going to lose him.

Leah wasn’t sure if Jason really understood her fear of Slack. Maybe it was unreasonable, but she believed every threat the teen had hurled at her. She was glad when Jason finally called her, even though it was just after midnight. She waited for him to come. When he arrived, he got right into bed with her to hug closely and whisper in the dark. He was exhausted and Leah knew he was concerned about his failed efforts to avoid arraignment for the boys. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, Leah particularly feeling vulnerable.

But Slack’s venom grew to monster proportions, and he replaced the man in her dream. She was awakened by Jason just before dawn. He sat up alertly in bed and pulled her onto his lap and held her. Then he insisted on knowing why a dream held so much power over her.

So Leah told him everything.

Jason listened without interruption, studying her face, absently moving a strand of hair or touching her arm. When she was finished purging herself, when she’d said how she’d faked a bad head cold so as to call in sick and stay home in bed for a week afterward, he kissed her forehead and pressed her face close to his chest. He let her cry, and it gave him a moment in which to think. He didn’t know what to say.

Jason was incredulous that Leah had never told anyone, not even her father or sister.

“Why?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I thought … maybe it was my fault.”

“For God’s sake, Leah.”

“I should have known better. I do. Jason, I’m not stupid. I know how to take care of myself. I know that … I know—”

“Okay, okay. Shhh. It’s okay.”

He rocked her, and knew it wasn’t enough. And he was surprised at the amount of fear that now pumped through him. If something had really happened back then, he never would have met Leah. Or if he had, she never would have trusted him. And if anything happened to her now …

Jason knew better than anyone that only sheer coincidence had saved Leah from a tragedy. He knew that someone being a victim was often random. Sometimes nothing more than dumb luck determined whether someone lived or died on the streets of the city … or in deserted stairwells.

Except that Leah was not just anyone. Not to him. She was not anonymous, not just another constituent and part of his job. The truth was, there was no way he could keep her safe. It terrified him.

Leah could feel the pressure of Jason’s arms tightening around her. “Jason? What?” she asked.

He was very slow in answering. “I was just thinking. I just wish that I—”

Leah put her fingers lightly to his lips to stop his words. “I’ll be careful from now on. The dream will eventually go away.” It felt good not to have it a secret anymore. It felt good that Jason understood. And then she had a revelation. “Does it … bother you?”

He’d never thought about it before. The people he was supposed to protect from being crime victims needed his empathy. It rarely was enough anyway, and it couldn’t be sustained. What people mostly wanted from him was just his authority when it suited them, or his absence when it didn’t. He realized he was seen as a necessary evil, the one person between an individual and injury, possibly even death.

Jason looked at Leah. It did something strange inside him to think of how close she’d come to being destroyed. For an instant he tried to remove himself from the imagined scenario of that happening. He’d get over it; after a war and Lisa and Michael and God only knew what else to come, he could get over anything. But then all the warmth drained from his body at the idea of Leah being hurt.

He nodded silently in answer to her question, and hoped that, for now, Leah wouldn’t ask why.

She didn’t. Instead she curled up into his arms. She heard him sigh as he stroked her hair. She smiled to herself.

It was better than anything else he might have said.

“Well, what do you think?” Jill asked.

Leah again read the inter-office memo that Jill had given her. It was a suggestion for an exhibition to be mounted in the lobby gallery of their office building. She was being asked to do a one-woman show of her artwork. It was Jill’s idea.

Leah glanced at Jill. “Why me?”

“Because everyone thought it would be different to highlight someone’s work that wasn’t directly related to book design or promotion. You know. Sort of a showcase. Everyone loves your caricatures.”

Leah nodded absently. Whenever she and Jill spoke these days, there was a sense of superficiality in the conversation. Not that it was strictly all business or unfriendly, but it wasn’t as personal as it used to be between them. Leah had not forgotten Jill’s opinion about her dating someone white. They had not spoken about it since.

“I know you’ve been working on your pictures. I’m sure there’s more than enough to frame for a show. It could be fun. It’s a great way for people to see how talented you are.”

Leah pursed her mouth. “That’s generous of you.”

Jill shrugged. “It’s good for the department to get some attention. How about it?”

Leah carefully folded the memo. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Great,” Jill said, relief evident in her voice. “I guess I should let you know that I told the director there would be no problem. I told him you’d agree.”

Leah got her purse from the drawer of her supply cabinet. “What would you have done if I’d said no?”

Jill laughed nervously. “Begged and pleaded. I know that sometimes I put my foot in my mouth. Off to lunch?”

“Yes,” Leah said, walking toward the door. “It’s so nice outside I thought I’d get a salad or something and eat in one of the parks nearby.”

“Mind if I join you?” Leah turned around to gaze silently at her. “I thought we could talk some more about the show.”

“You did?” Leah asked. Not so much suspicious as curious.

Jill sighed. “Look, I miss not having lunch together. I miss not gossiping. We used to get along.”

“We still get along,” Leah said, turning to face her.

Jill shook her head. “It’s polite. There’s still a lot of distance between us. I know it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said what I did about … that man you’re dating.”

Leah shrugged. “If that was how you felt …”

“But I never asked you what he was like. I never asked you how you met or how you were doing. I should have listened more instead of running my mouth.”

Leah’s smile was understanding. “Jason is a terrific man. And we’re doing very well, thank you.”

“I’m really sorry about what I said, Leah. It was just thoughtless.”

“Don’t worry about it. Where should we go?”

“By the U.N.” They left the studio, heading for the elevators. “What’s he like?” Jill asked eagerly. “What does he do?”

Leah couldn’t help laughing, knowing the trouble that a three-word answer, he’s a cop, could cause. “You’ll meet him at this exhibition,” she said.

She knew that Jason’s presence and personality would speak louder than her words.

Leah sat next to Jason on the front steps to the brownstone and watched the sidewalk and street games of the neighborhood kids. It had become part of the summer routine when Jason brought her home after a day or evening out together. Mostly it was just fun to watch the adolescent antics. But every now and then something else was going on behind Jason’s alert gray eyes and his quiet, thoughtful consideration of other people’s children. It was getting dark now, and one by one the children were being called home. Jason finished his cigarette and leaned back with his elbows on the steps behind him.

Leah knew something was on his mind, and all evening she had waited for him to confide in her. She leaned back, too, and slipped her arm through his. “Okay. I think it’s expensive, but I’m willing to offer a dollar.”

Jason looked at her blankly, confirming Leah’s opinion that he was preoccupied.

“What?”

She tapped his temple. “For your thoughts, Jay.”

He arched a brow. “Thoughts used to be a lot cheaper than that.”

“Inflation. And some thoughts are worth more from some people than from others.”

“Thanks. But I think you’re getting a poor bargain.”

Leah grabbed his hand and held it. “If it’s about me, I can take it,” she said lightly, even though she was apprehensive that his thoughts were somehow connected to her.

Jason squeezed her hand. “It’s about Slack.”

Leah felt relief flow through her body. “What’d he do now?”

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know. The trouble is, no one knows where he is.”

“I thought he was in a minimum-security facility upstate.”

“He was. Until a few days ago, that is. He apparently took that long walk you used to ask me about. No one has seen him. If he’s in the city he’s being very smart about keeping a low profile.”

Leah wasn’t sure she believed that. Slack was out there somewhere. He was free. And she was still afraid of him.

“Are you still worried about him?”

Jason pursed his lips and slowly shook his head. “Not as much as I am about what he might do out there.” He sighed deeply. “Slack is volatile. Unpredictable. I hate to admit it, but with him I probably bit off more than I could chew.”

She stroked his arm. “You weren’t wrong to want to help him, Jay. It’s Slack’s loss that he didn’t take it.”

Jason grinned at her and pulled his arm free to search for his cigarettes. “You’re really good for my ego, Leah Downey.”

She started to ask jokingly what else she was good for, but Jason’s frown returned and he busied himself with lighting a cigarette.

“What else?” she quietly asked, but referring to other things that might be on his mind.

Jason’s glance faltered and he half turned so that his back was against the banister. “I never used to be so easy to read,” he murmured.

Leah looked right at him. “I’m presumptuous enough to think I might know you better than most people.”

Jason nodded briefly. He stroked his free hand down her arm and covered her hand. “I agree.” He looked at the burning cigarette and then out at the street where, just a half hour earlier, a dozen children’s voices had been heard at play.

“I have to make a trip to Pennsylvania this weekend. It’s about some property I own there.”

Leah heard the two sentences and understood them perfectly. She also instantly realized what Jason was not telling her. The weekend also had to do with Michael. It had to do with his ex-wife. And he wasn’t going to ask her to come along.

She, too, looked out over the empty street and saw that it was now as it had been almost a year earlier. She and Allen had arrived right below where she and Jason now sat. Allen and Jason had collided somehow, and a bottle of wine had broken. Leah had looked into the gray eyes of a man who, she was to learn, was honest, strong, and caring—and worth caring about. Someone worth loving. She didn’t have to know Jason’s reasons or his motives for going. She needed to know only that he had a strong enough reason to return.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Leah asked.

Jason slowly extinguished his cigarette. He reached toward her and placed his hand around the back of her neck. He leaned even closer and captured Leah’s mouth, kissing her sweetly and slowly, and with a great deal of lingering tenderness.

“Wait for me,” Jason whispered against her mouth.

“I will,” she answered.

It was the easiest promise Leah had ever made in her life. Especially since she already knew she was going to love Jason Horn forever.

When Jason had received the letter from Lisa’s lawyer, he’d been immediately suspicious. He’d been pretty regular with child-support payments right up until Michael’s death. And he’d maintained alimony until Lisa had finally gotten settled into her own career as a private-duty nurse five years ago. So the letter brought a surprise Jason had not considered before. Lisa was getting married again, to a doctor. And the house she’d lived in, had raised their son in, and which Jason had helped to finance, was to be sold and the proceeds split between them. His presence was needed to sign the transfer papers and other documents.