Heart of Light (12 page)

“Ready?” Laney asked.

Nodding, he squeezed her hands. “I think this will help.”

“Good. Thanks for asking me to come.”

He leaned down and softly kissed her on the temple, his lips lingering just a few seconds longer. He inhaled and smelled sweet cherry blossom and baby powder. Over the past year, when his world felt like it would never turn on its feet again, all he needed to do was breathe in Laney’s attractive scent and he could keep his inner demons at bay, even if for just a brief moment.

Walking through the empty coffee shop, they entered a small private room with approximately twenty people seated around. He liked going to his meetings in the suburbs. There were less people and it was a more intimate setting. He had gone to a few meetings in downtown Chicago, and there were always several hundred people in attendance. Getting up and sharing your story was difficult enough. He couldn’t imagine doing it in front of that many people, most of them only there because it was a condition of their parole or probation.

Grabbing a cup of coffee from the serving table, he took a seat next to Laney, his leg anxiously bouncing up and down while he waited for everyone else to settle in. He felt a small hand land on his thigh, and he glanced to his right, his gaze meeting Laney’s vivacious brown eyes. She gave him an encouraging smile. Just one look and he felt oddly at peace.

Greg’s mind blanked out while the leader began the meeting. He had been involved in some sort of twelve-step program for the past decade and, once a year, he swore that he would get up and share his story. He always felt better once he did, but the guilt that continued to plague his conscience about what happened all those years ago still ate him up inside, even though he had affirmed over and over again that some higher power was responsible. Sometimes it worked. More often than not, it didn’t.

Laney nudged him from his empty and disarming thoughts when the leader called for any volunteers to share their story. Nervously raising his hand, his eyes met with the stocky man who had been taking charge of the meetings for as long as Greg had been going.

He nodded in his direction and Greg stood up to make his way to the front of the room, leaning on a small rickety podium. The air still smelled of stale cigarette smoke, left over from the leader’s nicotine habit.

Taking a deep breath, he faced the group of men and women that he had seen nearly every week for the past year. He hadn’t told this group of people his story yet, and he was happy to be able to share with them. Perhaps that would help them open up and share their
own
battles with addiction, too.

“Hi. My name is Greg, and I’m an alcoholic.” He paused and waited for the obligatory
Hi, Greg
. After the polite mumbling, he continued, “I’ve been sober for eleven years. Like a lot of people, I always drank socially. During games. Hanging out with the guys from work. The occasional glass of wine with dinner. I never understood how anyone could turn to alcohol to take the burden off their problems. I was a detective with the Chicago P.D., after all. I had seen what alcohol and drugs did to so many offenders…and victims. So why did I turn to alcohol?”

He paused briefly, looking for the inner strength to share exactly what happened in his past. His eyes met Laney’s and he knew that he could get through anything with her by his side.

“Almost thirty years ago, I saw the mother of my daughter get shot in front of my eyes. She was my world. She was my light. She was my everything. It took me years to realize it, but Angelina wasn’t the only one those bastards killed that day. Part of me died, too. The part of me that was rational and reasonable. I turned to alcohol to cope with the loss of the woman that I loved, that I wanted to marry. I fled Chicago after her death and moved to Houston. Holly, a good friend of mine from Chicago, came to help me take care of my daughter. She tried to talk to me about my drinking, but I wouldn’t listen.

“She practically raised my daughter for me. If I wasn’t working, I was drinking. I was never around to watch her grow up. I missed everything. Her first step. Her first word. Her first day of school. Her first lost tooth. Her first birthday. All because I was at a bar, getting drunk, trying to cope with losing the woman I loved, ignoring the person that we created
through
our love.

“And it was my drinking that resulted in my daughter and the woman who raised her to be taken from me, as well.” His eyes roamed the room, but he didn’t see anyone sitting there. All he saw was an empty house, the sound of a child’s laughter long gone.

“On Angelina’s birthday a little over twelve years ago, my former partner from Chicago P.D. came to convince me to go to rehab. I agreed on the condition that I be allowed one last bender. We went to a cabin in the woods that I owned. When I finally sobered up and came home, both my daughter and Holly were gone…missing without a trace. And here’s the really horrible thing. When Angie was murdered, the men responsible warned me that they’d eventually come for my daughter. Instead of looking out for her and protecting her, I spent my time drinking. I’ve had to live with that decision every day.”

His face grew weary with the burden that he had been carrying since that fateful day all those years ago. He had so many regrets, but he had to keep reminding himself that he couldn’t let his shortcomings bring him down. He had to bury his mistakes and let others help lift him up.

“Through the years, I’ve learned to take it one day at a time. Some days are better than others. Today is not one of those days. Today is my daughter’s twenty-eighth birthday. I still feel guilt. I still feel remorse. I still feel regret. But I try to focus that guilt on something else. I try to tell myself that I will find my daughter and Holly, and that karma will eventually make the people responsible for all this tragedy in my life pay. It’s all I can hope for.” His eyes met Laney’s once more, the sparkle there reminding him of his new drive to stay on his current path.

“I now have a new reason to push forward, to stay sober. And she’s sitting here tonight, supporting me. She’s shown me that I’m worthy of love again. That I’m worthy of forgiveness. That I’m worthy of a second chance. And I hope that you all find yourself worthy of those things, as well. Thank you.”

He made his way down from the podium toward where Laney was sitting. She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss beneath his earlobe. “I’m so proud of you, Greg. I love you.”

He met her eyes. “I love you, too.”

People began to file out of the room, several of them coming up to Greg to thank him for sharing his struggles. He hated telling complete strangers what had happened to everyone he loved, but he thought if he could help someone else come to terms with their past and their addiction to alcohol, it was worth it.

“Come on. I’ll take you out to dinner.” Laney grabbed his hand and began leading him out of the back room of the coffee shop, heading to the street in the quaint little downtown district. “Italian okay?”

Greg beamed. “Of course.”

“Shit,” she said, reaching into her purse. “Sorry. My phone’s been going off for the past hour. Do you mind? It’s some seven-one-three area code and a number I don’t even recognize.”

“Seven-one-three? That’s Houston! Do you think…?”

She held up her hand, answering the call, not wanting to give Greg any false hope. She had seen what that had done to him in the past.

“Dr. Cranston,” she spoke into the phone.

Greg paced back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, trying to calm his nerves as he listened to Laney’s conversation. He hated that he was eavesdropping, but it was a call from Houston.

“Are you certain?… Well, has anyone made an identification?… I see… I’m sure he’ll want to… What?… Why not?… Are you serious?… And there’s nothing you can do to change his mind?… I understand. Politics and all that… Okay. Thanks for calling. You’ll keep me updated if there are any new developments?… Thanks, Will.” Taking a deep breath, she hung up and turned around, Greg’s frantic eyes meeting hers.

“Who was that? What happened?”

“Greg, darling…” her voice soothed. Grabbing his hands in hers, she looked down as she formulated her thoughts in her head. Yes, she had been waiting for the day where she would finally be able to tell him that there was some information after over a decade, but she was unsure how he would actually react to this news. He had been making so much progress and she was worried about him returning to the dark place he was in before he moved back to Chicago.

“Please, Laney. Please,” he begged, his voice full of heartache and hope at the same time.

Returning her eyes to his, she knew she couldn’t hide the truth from him. “It’s Holly, Greg. They found her body. They’ll be contacting you shortly to ask you to go down to Houston to make the official identification.”

Greg let out a quiet sob. “They’re sure it’s her?”

“They sounded pretty certain. They were able to match dental records, but they just need the next of kin to go make an official identification, and that’s you, according to her will.”

“Do you think that Jolene’s…?”

“Listen to me, Greg. You can’t start thinking that way. Like you said, if they wanted to kill her, why did they go through all the trouble? I think they killed Holly because she served no purpose. We’re not even certain her death is related to her disappearance. But, from your stories, they wanted to use Jolene to make you suffer.”

His mind raced as he considered Laney’s words. “I hope you’re right. I hope…”

“She is. She has to be, Greg.”

They were both quiet while they contemplated what finding Holly’s body could mean.

“There’s something else I should probably tell you,” Laney said several moments later when she was confident that he had calmed his mind a bit.

“Yes?”

“Holly’s body… Well, it was in pretty decent shape. They’re estimating that she’s only been dead for about a month or so. The cause of death was a bit odd. She was drained of blood while she was alive. Her wrists were sliced open and she was left to die a rather slow and painful death before they slit her throat. It appears that her killer wrapped her body in some chemicals to preserve the corpse, then hid it in the wall of an office building. It was found by a bunch of construction workers who had been hired to do a demo of the wall. You can imagine their shock when her body came tumbling out.”

“Shit…”

“Yeah. And there’s something fishy going on. They don’t want to pursue this as it’s a ten-plus year old missing person’s case and they don’t see much need to use valuable resources on it.”

“But they could find out who has Jolene!”

“I know.
I
see the connection. I’m pretty sure anyone with half a brain would but, for some reason, the chief of police down there wants this case dead and buried.”

“Laney, I…”

“It’s okay. I’ll take a rain check on dinner. Go pack. I want a full report when you get back from Houston.”

A guilty look crossed his face. “Are you sure?”

“You’ve been waiting over a decade for a break in this case. You’ve got one. Go.”

He embraced her, savoring the warmth that he still felt whenever she was near him. Leaning his chin on her head, he ran his fingers through her shoulder-length hair.

“Do you have any idea how thankful I am that you never gave up on me? That you convinced me to come back to Chicago?”

“Do you have any idea how happy I am that you finally listened to me after all these years?” She pulled back and met his eyes once more, the affection there making her heart want to explode. Yes, he had his problems, but who didn’t? She stood on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you, Greg,” she murmured against his mouth.

“And I love you, Laney. Always.” They shared a simple yet affectionate kiss before he stepped back. “I’ll call you later on, okay?”

“You got it. And just remember, if things get tough, don’t…”

“I wouldn’t even dream of touching the stuff. Don’t worry.” He opened the car door and got in the driver’s side, lowering the window of his SUV.

Laney leaned in and gave him one last kiss. “Good. Be safe.”

“Always.”

She retreated to the sidewalk and watched as he drove off, hoping that the memories of being back in Houston wouldn’t cause him to crack all over again.

“Y
OU
’
VE
GOT
IT
BAD
, Tomorrow!” a voice called out to Jolene one morning later that week, snapping her out of her daze as she stared at Cam’s athletic physique running into the ocean with his surfboard.

She jumped, her face growing red, and turned her attention to Elsie, who was carrying a large box that, from the looks of it, was rather heavy.

“What’s in the box?” she asked, trying to diminish the fact that she
had
been checking out Cam. Getting up from her lounge chair, she met Elsie on the steps and helped her bring it up the stairs.

“Some portable speakers, an extra iPod that’s already fully loaded with some great tunes, and books.”

The two girls made their way into the house and dropped the box near the entryway.

“Lots of books.” She brushed the dust off her hands. “I figured that if you were going to spend some time here, you may want something to keep you busy. I always find that a nice smutty romance novel is the perfect time vacuum while listening to music.” She winked. “Feel free to take notes of some of the steamier parts.”

Jolene giggled at her friend, loving the familiarity she was beginning to feel with her, even after a few short days.

“So what’s on your plate today?” Elsie asked, plopping down on the couch.

Jolene shrugged, sitting in a wicker chair across from her. “Hadn’t really thought about it, but since I now have a nice collection of smut to keep me busy, I may dive into that.”

“Well, good. Just wanted to make sure everything’s going okay with you over here. I have to get to the restaurant, but you have the number there if anything comes up, okay?” She gave her a knowing look. “Anything at all, you can call.”