Daring Devotion (12 page)

“I'm not saying I don't want to go ahead with the wedding.”

“Running out on the groom during the rehearsal dinner is usually a pretty good indication that the bride does not want to go through with the wedding.”

“I knew you would take this out of context!” She pushed his arm back through the small opening and slammed the door shut.

“Andrea!” Cal banged on the door. “I'm sorry, I'm listening.” He laid his head heavily against the door. The weight of the world had finally become too much. “It's just I'm angry.” He closed his eyes and forced himself to accept the truth. “No. I'm mad as hell. You broke our deal.”

“What deal?” Her soft voice was barely audible through the door.

“You knew when we met that I had a problem committing to relationships. Every time I trusted my heart to a woman, I ended up getting dumped on. I didn't want to keep going through that. Then you came along and made me believe…you made me think you would never do that to me. You said you'd marry me and stay with me forever. I believed you. But you didn't mean it.” Cal heard the chain rattling and then the door was thrown open.

“How can you say that? I did mean it!”

Cal's eyes took in her tired form, and realized she hadn't slept any better than he had. She was still wearing her apricot dress from the night before. “Then how could you walk out on me in front of our family and friends?”

“I had to,” she pleaded. “Don't you understand? If I don't take a stand now, I never will.”

He looked down into her face twisted with worry and determination. “What exactly are you standing against?”

“You still don't understand.” She shook her head slowly. “It's not what I'm standing against, Cal. It's what I'm standing for.”

“And what's that?”

“The truth.”

“What are you talking about? I've never lied to you.”

“Maybe not with your mouth, but with your actions, your body language, and every time you shut yourself off from me. You tell me your heart is mine, then you hide it away from me. You say you want me to share your life but you won't tell me what is going on
in your life.
”

“Is this about the nightmares?”

“Partly, but so much more than that. This is about
real
commitment, this is about
true
devotion.”

He shook his head in confusion. “Just tell me what you want, Andrea.”

“I want you to trust me.”

“I do trus—”

“No, you don't. If you did, I would know what images wake you up in a cold sweat. Why you feel the need to search through the firehouse files at two in the morning, why you froze in that house fire. These are the things you refuse to share with me. And quite honestly, I don't know if you can.

“So, there it is, Cal. What I want from you.” She spread her arms wide in a gesture of a grand announcement. “I
challenge
you to
trust
me.”

Cal took in her dramatic pose and could almost see the vein of steel running up her spine. There was no doubt about it, this was a make-or-break demand and he knew instantly that he could not do it. No hesitation, no uncertainty. No way he could accept her challenge.

Steve's words played over in his mind.
All she wants is for you to share your fears with her.
They both made it sound like such a simple request. Cal dropped his head, turned his back on the woman he loved and walked away.

C
avanaugh stood on the porch waiting for someone to answer the door. Like most of the dinner guests of family and friends, he'd been left blowing in the wind the previous evening as they all watched Andrea run out of the restaurant. They all wanted to help the troubled couple, but nobody knew how.

This morning, a thought had occurred to him of how he could possibly help. He could at least close the case on Cal's questions regarding Jeff Collins once and for all.

Finally, the front door of the small house opened, and Cavanaugh found himself wrapped in warm, loving arms. He accepted the older woman's strong embrace with patience. Evelyn Palmer held his slender body away from her and looked him over with the assessing eye of a mother. “Is Marty feeding you?” she asked with a bluntness only few people would ever try.

Cavanaugh sighed. “Yes, Evelyn, I eat very well. Is JJ around?”

Refusing to be so easily dissuaded, she completely ignored the question. “Not all that restaurant food, I mean real home-cooked meals.”

He squeezed his way around her to avoid getting a doughnut stuck in his mouth, which was not an unrealistic possibility with Evelyn. Ever since the woman had met him, she'd been sticking unwanted food in his mouth. Her only criteria seemed to be the more fatty content the better. For some reason, she seemed to think that any man with less than a forty-two inch waist was malnourished.

Speaking of forty-two inch waist, Cavanaugh thought, as his friend JJ appeared in the doorway from the kitchen with an apple in his hand. “Hey, man, what's up.” JJ motioned over his shoulder and then led the way up the stairs to the bedroom he used as a home office.

“Good seeing you.” Cavanaugh gave Evelyn a quick kiss on the cheek and followed her husband up the stairs.

“Have you had lunch?” she called after the pair.

In unison, the men gave opposite answers. Cavanaugh answered in the affirmative, while his companion almost whined out
no.

“You know the deal.” Evelyn shook her finger at her husband. “You finish that apple and we'll discuss a pastrami sandwich later.”

Cavanaugh followed into the office and sat down in an easy chair sitting in the corner. “So, what's with the apple?”

JJ's thick eyebrows scrunched in irritation. “High cholesterol. She's been making me add more fruits and vegetables to my diet. According to my doctor I eat too much meat, but my feeling is, if an all-meat diet is good enough for a lion, it's good enough for me.”

“So she makes you eat an apple?”

JJ nodded.

“And rewards you with a pastrami sandwich?”

“Hey, man, marriage is all about compromise.”

Cavanaugh laughed. “A lesson I'm learning more and more with each day.”

JJ tossed the file through the air like a Frisbee to his friend, and Cavanaugh caught it reflexively. “I think you and Cal may be barking up the wrong tree with this Jeff guy. From all accounts, he's just what he appears to be, a highly decorated officer of the Detroit fire department.”

“You sure?” Cavanaugh asked, flipping through the pages. He knew the guy had to be clean to have been admitted to the academy, but he did think there would some departmental reprimands in his files, something to reflect questionable conduct. But as he glanced over the pages it became evident that as far as the department was concerned, as far as the world was concerned, Jeff Collins was a pretty decent guy.

Cavanaugh sighed and set the file down beside his chair. “Okay, so now we know what the record says, but I'm telling you, JJ, there is something not right about this dude.”

“Be specific.”

“I can't. I don't work with the guy, it's just a feeling I get when I'm around him. But Cal thinks the man wants him dead.”

“Why? Have they had some sort of confrontation?”

“That's just it. They haven't. Cal is certain they never met before Fifteen, but he says Jeff watches him like a hungry jackal.”

JJ sat with one hip on his desk. “You can't exactly investigate dirty looks, Cavanaugh. If you really think this guy is up to something, we need more information.”

“Can you tail him for a while? Maybe for a week, see where he goes, who he talks to.”

JJ smiled remembering how they'd met. Marty had hired him to shadow Cavanaugh for his own protection, but unfortunately Cavanaugh realized he was being followed and turned the tables on both of them. “Sure. As long as he's not as sharp as you, that shouldn't be a problem.”

Cavanaugh smiled in return. “Thanks, man.” Once the business part of their meeting was concluded, the friends spent some time just catching up on each other's news.

During the previous years, the pair had spent quite a bit of time together while looking into the attempts on Cavanaugh's life. But since then, they'd not been able to see each other often, except for the occasional dinner outing, which usually included the wives.

About an hour later, Cavanaugh stood to leave. “Think I can sneak out the back door? I have a feeling Evelyn is probably guarding the front door with some kind of meat sandwich she'll want to shove down my throat.”

“Probably.” JJ chuckled, then his expression quickly became angry. “She better not try to give you my pastrami.” He looked at Cavanaugh with consideration. “Yeah, we better take you out the back.”

Cavanaugh laughed again and followed his friend out, realizing he'd just been outrated by a sandwich.

Andrea glanced at the red flashing button on her answering machine before grabbing her lunch bag out of the refrigerator. She didn't have time to return calls and assure everyone of her well-being—she was running late for work. Besides, she wasn't sure what she would tell them anyway. Should she call off the wedding? Should she just wait? There was still too much unsettled between them.

After Cal's visit the previous day, she'd spent most of the afternoon fighting herself, finally falling asleep early that morning. Every fifteen minutes or so she found herself headed in the direction of the phone. All she wanted to do was call Cal and surrender, cry mercy, beg him to forget everything she'd said and please, please forgive her.

She'd reach out for the phone and then notice how much her trembling hands resembled her mother's and she would snatch it back. Of course, her situation in no way resembled the kind of marital discord her mother lived with. And there was never any question of Cal being like her father.

What she feared was that she had inherited the compromising nature of her mother. That something inside that refused to fight when the odds were stacked against her. It reeked of cowardice, and this was the fight of her life, not only for herself but for Cal, as well. She
could not
give up.

She grabbed a bagel out of the box on the table as she hurried toward the living room. Taking one final look around the room she swung open the door and stopped in her tracks.

Lying in the center of the welcome mat was a white envelope. Setting her purse and lunch bag down, she quickly opened it. Her breath caught in her throat when she found a picture of her and Cal cuddled together in a picture booth.

She remembered exactly when the photo had been taken, shortly after they'd started dating. She was so happy and excited about the budding relationship. Now, that seemed so long ago. She flipped the picture over and read the few scribbled words on the back.

Andrea's eyes narrowed on the words, then she quickly stuck the picture and envelope down in her purse.
The man fights dirty,
she thought, knowing Cal was trying to incite memories of happier times. It worked.

But it changed nothing. The picture did invoke happy memories, but it was of a time when they meant little to each other. Now, even in this time of trial, he was the sun and moon in her world. Now…he meant everything.

She hurried down the hall toward the elevator. If anything, seeing the picture had only strengthened her resolve.

 

Cal watched his friend moving toward him across the crowded lobby. Cavanaugh reached him with an extended arm, and the men shared the brief brotherly hug they always exchanged when meeting. “Sorry you had to come down here, man. But this week has been like a madhouse.”

“No problem. I appreciate you doing this for me. And tell JJ thanks, too.”

“Already have.”

Cal looked down at the brown envelope Cavanaugh held in his hands. “Anything I should know about right away?”

“Not really. According to JJ, the guy is a real straight shooter. Nothing out of the ordinary in his jacket, a couple of speeding tickets. No reprimands in his department record, just commendations.”

Cal frowned, wondering if his instincts were failing him for the first time. “Really, I was sure you would find something.”

Cavanaugh glanced at his watch before continuing. “If it's any consolation, I'm with you. Something about the guy is not right, but so far there is nothing in his background that JJ could find to substantiate what we feel.”

“Well, I just want to read through it anyway.”

“I understand.” Cavanaugh checked his watch again.

“Look, I don't want to hold you up, I know you have to get back to your meeting, but thanks again, man. I really owe you one.”

“No problem,” Cavanaugh called over his shoulder, already in motion. He paused a few feet away and turned back toward Cal. “Have you talked to Andrea?”

Cal nodded. “I don't think it's going to work. I may have to call off the wedding.”

Cavanaugh walked back across the space dividing them. “Look, I know it seems impossible right now, but you've got to hang in there.” He tried to glance at his watch inconspicuously. “Remember last year when Marty wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't see me?”

Cal quirked an eyebrow with a smile. “I remember, you looked like a lost little puppy standing outside the firehouse.” His smile turned into a frown. “It's not so funny when it's you.”

“Yeah, well, back then I thought it was over. I thought I had lost her for good, but look at us now.”

Cal tried to smile realizing his friend was trying to give him hope. “Thanks, man.”

Cavanaugh nodded. “I've gotta go, but you hang in there. Don't give up.” Then he was rushing across the lobby back the way he came.

Cal stood alone in the empty lobby. He flipped open the brown envelope and glanced at the generic information. Cavanaugh was right; on paper, Jeff Collins was nothing less than an upstanding citizen and an outstanding firefighter. But paper did not feel, and Cal knew what he felt in the presence of Jeff was not comforting in the least.

He thought about Cavanaugh's words of encouragement, but Cavanaugh did not know about Andrea's challenge, or the PTSD. He didn't know the whole story. No one but he and Andrea knew what was really at stake. He knew Cavanaugh meant well, but the truth was he didn't understand. It was easy to be confident when you knew you could give your woman what she wanted.

 

Less than an hour later, he stood beside Marco's bed in his small bedroom, looking down into the young face so filled with indecision.

He hated asking the question, but knew he must. They had to put a stop to this potential killer right away.

“Marco, did you see anything or anyone else in the building?”

The young man's eyes darted nervously in every direction as he struggled to find a way to avoid answering the question.

But it was too late; Cal had already seen the memory reflected on his face. “Marco, you saw who started the fire, didn't you?”

Big brown eyes darted across his face and returned to the sheet as he struggled his thin shoulders. “I don't know, maybe.” He glanced at his mother standing on the other side of the bed. “I think so.”

Maria leaned across the bed. “Marco, if you saw something—anything—you have to tell us. This is a very bad person, and he is trying to hurt people. Do you understand?”

Marco nodded, his dark brows crunched in concern. “But what if he finds out it was me who told on him?”

Cal fought to hide the surprise he was suddenly feeling. “What are you saying, Marco? Do you know this person? Have you seen them before?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, at the firehouse.”

Cal and Maria exchanged a startled glance.

Cal had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and a fairly good idea of the man Marco was about to name. Although he'd already had his own suspicions, still he had not wanted to believe that a firefighter could turn into an arsonist. It was crazy to imagine that someone who fought the monster everyday and saw the damage that it could do would be the very person who could cause such destruction.

“Who did you see?” he asked the question with a heavy heart, despite his certainty he still needed for Marco to name the man.