Remember Love (21 page)

The glint of keys
in the ignition caught his attention. The leather interior smelled clean and
new. His rental car on a lot cost more than what some people made in a year.

If he could buy
Katrina’s love, he would. She meant more than these silly toys, these trinkets designed
to fill some hole within.

You shall have
no other gods. . .

It whispered
inside, the ancient verse he’d read this very morning in his hotel room. Alec
leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He’d had Katrina in high school and
still felt empty. Hadn’t he left her without a glance? And been miserable, but
functional.

What was he
thinking? Life without Katrina might be painful, but it wasn’t meaningless.

Life without God,
on the other hand, left a void bigger than the Grand Canyon.

Maybe the
treasure he needed wasn’t the kind that could be bought. Months ago, after
deciding to follow Jesus, peace had filled him and the emptiness fled. Until
he’d learned of her building’s sale. Until a plan had formed to remind her and
her mother of the man they’d left standing alone.

An image of
Coach, humbling himself, bombarded Alec. Forgiveness. It wasn’t the rich things
of his life that he’d made an idol of.

No, he’d
worshipped his bitterness. Honored and served it.

Just like Widow Carmichael.

Heaviness dragged
his head to the steering wheel. He pressed his forehead against the leather,
pushing, groaning.

No wonder he
wasn’t happy.

What did God want
from him? No answer boomed down from the sky to rain across his heart, but a
tiny trickle of understanding seemed to spread through him.

God wanted love.
He wanted the son who’d wandered in search for better things. Jesus wanted Alec
Munroe, on his knees, bare of sin, covered by the love of his King.

What better place
than at church to recommit himself? He swung the car door open. The enormity of
his pride, his greed, and his anger bent him double before he even reached the
steps of the church.

It hurt, knowing
he’d turned his back on the one who’d died for him.

Lord, I’ve
been wrong, looking for life in dead places. Forgive me, God. For my
unforgiveness. My anger and idolatry. Wash me as you cleansed David. Make me
white as snow, Jesus.

He hunched down,
his knees pressed against the rough stone steps of the church, the warm
November day embracing him, and he let the ugly gush out. Received the new.

When he stood,
the emptiness was gone.

Two days later
Alec sat at the makeshift desk in his hotel room, poring over a contract. The
shrill ring of his phone startled him. "This is Alec."

"Hey, Grant
here. You working today?"

"Every
Saturday. What’s up?"

"Just wanted
to let you know about Steve. He escaped custody."

Alec recoiled. How
did a crazy guy escape a jail cell? He bit back his questions and asked the
most pertinent one. "He shouldn’t be too hard to find, right?"

"He’s got
friends that might hide him. Our force is small. It might take awhile."

"I’ll take
care of it."

"Just stay
on the right side of the law." Grant’s tone carried a quiet authority that
almost made Alec smile. They’d come a long way since high school.

"You know
me."

"I do. How’re
things going with Katrina and her store?" Grant’s voice streamed through
the phone tight and controlled.

Sunlight filtered
across the papers on the hotel desk, highlighting the article that announced
the sale of Kat’s Korner’s building. Alec cringed. "She doesn’t know I own
her building yet."

"Aren’t you
selling her store, or something? I thought I heard that."

"She doesn’t
want to sell."

A grunt.

"I’m not
going to hurt her, Grant." Alec straightened the contract, lining its
edges against the desk.

A pause on the
other end, then, "It’s not her I’m worried about. You were a rough kid,
but you had passion. Verve. Look what she did to you."

"You told me
about the building for sale. I had to come check it out." Alec thought for
a moment. "She didn’t mess me up. Unforgiveness did."

"Spare me
the religious stuff you picked up at that church." Grant cleared his
throat. "I know I already said this, but if I’d known Joey was yours, I
would’ve told you. I’m sorry, man."

Alec tapped his
pen against the contract. "I know. We’re cool."

"Okay. Stick
to the law, Alec."

Alec closed his
phone, brow furrowed. Despite Grant’s dislike for Katrina, he’d urged Alec
home. Now, knowing Joey had been Alec’s, Grant really couldn’t stand Kitty.

But blame didn’t
matter. Forgiveness did. They’d both been young and unwise. God willing, she’d
marry him. Give their love a second chance.

A stronger
chance.

He went back to
the contract in front of him, hope curling his lips into a smile.

*****

Katrina held
tight to her bundle, humming as she made her way up the steps to the state
prison.

"Hey,
Katrina!" A guard raised his hand in greeting and she waved back, not
slowing her pace. She’d closed the store for an extended lunch and was short on
time. She’d drop the package off and then hurry back. Alec couldn’t watch the
store today and Saturdays were busy. Her pace quickened.

Alec was right.
If sales didn’t pick up soon, she’d be forced to close Kat’s Korner. But this
errand was important, she reminded herself.

She pushed
through heavy doors into a large room filled with long tables and folding
chairs. A lone inmate slumped over a hard, rectangular table in the corner.

She flashed him a
smile, ignoring the sharp twinge she felt every time she saw him.

He didn’t smile
back but as she moved closer she noticed his focus on the package in her arms.

"Thanksgiving
leftovers," she said, setting it in front of him and lowering herself to a
chair.

"Thanks."
His faded blue eyes hung on the package before lifting to meet her gaze. He
looked thinner.

"How’ve you
been, Anthony?"

"Same as
always, I guess."

She took in the
way his clothes hung over his skinny frame and her heart stung. Anthony had
been joyriding three years ago when he lost control of the car he’d stolen from
his foster parents and run her mother and Joey off the road. He’d blacked out
on the scene, not from injuries, but from too much alcohol.

A conviction wasn’t
long in coming. Katrina had stayed away from the trial but two years afterward
she’d felt compelled to confront the man who’d murdered her mother and child.

What she’d found
had been little more than a boy.

Every time she
visited, she tried to push past the pain and reach out to him. She’d asked
Rachel to dig into his background. The details had been heartbreaking.

She studied him
now, shoulders stooped, chin low, and wished she could ease his guilt.

"You can
stop looking at me like that. I ain’t some little kid in need of your pity."
The eyes that appeared lifeless sparked suddenly. "Why do you come, lady?
I got no use for religion. Take your do-gooder self somewhere else."
Anthony looked away, curling down in his chair and crossing his gangly arms.

She wanted to
blurt out who she was, why she came. She wanted to tell him that she forgave
him, the same way Jesus would. But the words stuck in her throat and so she
pushed the food toward him and stood.

"Now you
listen to me, young man," she said in her best mommy voice. "You’re
hurting. I understand that. I’ll come whether you like it or not and acting
like a child won’t stop the chocolate or the books." She glanced up at the
clock on the wall. She had to go. "I’ll see you in a few weeks. Any
requests?"

"You don’t
understand nothing," he said, face averted.

 Katrina left the
room without saying anything else. What could she say? He carried a heavy
burden and she felt powerless to do more than bring gifts and pray for his
redemption.

Hopefully Alec
hadn’t looked up the driver in the accident. He hadn’t said anything. She
frowned and pushed through the jail’s front doors. Sunlight spilled across the
parking lot, but she shivered. If Alec did pursue contact with Anthony, his anger
might destroy the teen’s fragile spirit.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

His son’s killer
rested somewhere within. Alec stepped into the prison and asked for directions.
He‘d made an appointment. Guards patted him down, their palms thick and strong.
A heavy-set guard beckoned him to a door.

Alec went through
it and found himself in a dark corridor. It stank of sweat and disillusionment.
Low voices ricocheted off thick cement walls, bounced off stark concrete floors
and followed Alec as he walked with the guard to the last cell. He glanced down
at the papers in his hands one more time. Anthony Gilmore, age nineteen, in for
vehicular manslaughter.

It had been a
busy week since Thanksgiving, what with trying to take care of business from a
hotel room and coercing Katrina into selling Kat’s Korner. He’d finally taken a
break from contracts today to peruse Katrina’s stash of documents from Joey’s
death. He’d found what he wanted. The name of the prison where the driver had
been sent.

He’d known the
kid’s name for awhile now but the details of his incarceration had remained a
mystery. Google hadn’t turned up much and the defense attorney never returned
his calls.

But now he knew.
And some strange compulsion urged him to leave his hotel room to confront a
killer. He pressed his lips together, trying to ignore the small voice inside
that whispered for him to forgive.

Like he’d
forgiven the citizens of Manatee Bay.

Like he’d
forgiven Katrina.

But this, Lord
?

Gilmore had
stolen his child. Made stupid choices and killed an innocent little boy. Alec
kept up his stride, battling what he
should
do with what he
wanted
to do. Maybe it was odd for him to feel violent over a little boy he never
knew, maybe not. Joey had been his flesh, his blood. Katrina’s child.

The guard in
front of Alec paused, unlocked the visitation room door, and Alec stepped
through. The door clanged shut behind him.

A transparent bullet-proof
partition stretched across the room, dividing it. Alec was the only one on his
half. Anthony Gilmore sat on the other side of the partition. He looked
fourteen. His limp blonde hair curtained faded blue eyes and beneath those, the
skin was dark and bruised.

Lack of sleep,
Alec noted. He sat down.

"Who are
you?" The kid didn’t even meet Alec’s gaze. His voice was a threadbare
whisper.

"I’m the
father of Joey Ross." His voice echoed strangely in the small room. He
studied Anthony’s face. It seemed to turn gray. His mouth moved wordlessly, but
then Alec realized he was saying sorry. Over and over again, chanting it with
no voice.

Alec’s palms
turned clammy. This was Joey’s killer? This sad child? Anthony was weeping now,
great gulping sobs that racked his skinny body.

Alec’s back hurt,
it was so stiff. He knew he could make a choice. Clearly God was giving him another
opportunity to change. A familiar anger lit his blood, but beneath the feeling,
and stronger, compassion flowed.

*****

The scream of a fire
truck jolted Katrina from deep sleep. Already the shrill siren was fading, but
she got out of bed anyway, curious.

Pushing the
curtains on her window aside, she looked out over her street. Across from her
house rested the police cruiser, no doubt housing some weary officer assigned
to guard her. A ridiculous waste of time, she thought. Despite her skepticism,
Alec and Grant insisted Steve might try to come after her again. She hoped not.

Her gaze shifted
upwards. To the west, an orange glow lit the night sky. As she studied the
ominous view, the phone rang in the living room.

Releasing the
curtains, she rushed out of her room. Who would be calling at this time of
night? Sharon. Please, God, let her be okay. Grant had called last Saturday and
told her Steve was missing. She’d been careful since then, but now she wondered
if Steve had somehow discovered Sharon’s whereabouts. She snatched up the
phone.

"Hello?"

"Katrina,
it’s Grant. You might want to get down to Kat’s Korner."

"Why?"
But thoughts of Sharon had already fled, and she knew with sudden clarity that
Kat’s Korner was on fire.

"It’s on—"

She slammed the
phone down, not bothering with good-bye. She threw on some Levi’s and a faded
t-shirt. Ten minutes later she pulled up to what was left of Kat’s Korner.

Dazed, she parked
the car. She got out and walked up to the building, each step like wading
through mud. She crossed her arms, pressed her fists tightly against her ribs.

The firefighters
had subdued the flames into small, angry licks of light that illuminated
rubble. They hissed and crackled, they drowned out the peaceful night.

Katrina
swallowed.

Rubble.

Her eyes stung.
From pungent clouds of smoke or bitter tears, she didn’t know. She wanted to
crumple to the ground. The one thing she’d had, now a pile of ashes. She
trembled,  and neither folded nor wept but stood rigid, afraid to move lest she
shatter.

"Katrina."
Alec came up behind her and slipped something over her shoulders. His jacket,
smelling of leather and cologne. Warm, but not enough to melt the icy clutch of
fear that gripped her.

 "Grant
called me," Alec said.

"What am I
going to do?" She didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one.

He gently took
her arm and steered her toward his car.

"I can’t
leave."

"There’s
nothing you can do right now. We might as well warm up."

"I don’t
want to warm up. I want my store."

"C’mon,
Katrina. Get in."

She felt like
screaming no and running off like a little kid, but she slid onto the passenger
seat instead. She wasn’t a child, and running away wouldn’t change a thing.

"It was my
idea to get Kat’s Korner," she said when Alec sat beside her and the doors
were closed. The urge to talk settled deep. "Mom wanted me to finish
college but I wanted to start a business, set my own hours. After Joey was born,
I saw how mom adored him. It worked to leave him with her while I ran the store
in the mornings. She came in the afternoons so I could go home with Joey. He
crawled around in there. Read his first book there." Her words shook. "I
always thought God helped me get the store. The bank had refused giving me a
loan. We all prayed, because I was so young. No credit. Mom took the loan out
under her name but made me a partner." She stared at the heap in front of
the car. "Now it’s gone."

"The Pizza
Place burned down too."

"I know."
She blinked. "We’ll build again."

"If the
owner of the building wants to." The flickering lights cast Alec’s profile
in darkness.

A ripple of
unease passed through Katrina. "Why wouldn’t he? Or she?" She didn’t
even know who owned the building she leased her store out of. The checks were
made to the corporation's name.

"This is a
good section of town," she said, pushing her unease to the side. Hope
barreled through her. "We’re on Main Street, next to the other businesses,
close to the headsprings of the river."

"Katrina.
Open up." The rap on the window startled her and she looked away from
Alec. Rachel’s face floated outside, strangely hazy in the gray pall of
destruction.

Katrina pressed
the window button and the glass slid down.

"I just
heard on my police scanner. Are you okay?" Rachel peered into the car.

"I’m
unharmed." Physically. She shivered.

Rachel waved at
the heavy smoke lingering in the air. "That’s not what I meant. Come over
to the apartment. I’ll make you some tea."

Why not? She
wouldn’t sleep now. "Give me a minute."

"Okay, I’ll
see you— is that Alec?" She bent down, her squint changing into a glare. "What
is it with you?"

"Enough,
Rachel."  Katrina rolled the window up and turned to Alec. "Sorry.
Look, I’m exhausted and emotionally, I’m just out of it." She pushed her
hands up over her eyes, pulled her hair back, and yawned. "I’ll call you
tomorrow."

Alec took her
hands in his. "We have a lot to discuss."

"I know."
His grip felt warm and strong. Welcome. Needed. Would it hurt so much to marry
him? It could. She knew how easily life could be snatched away. How easily she
could be abandoned. She sent Alec a slight smile before pulling her hand from
his and opening the door.

She avoided
looking at the skeletal remains of her store and concentrated on driving to
Rachel’s small apartment without sobbing.

Tears were for
later. For now, she’d get some tea and make plans for the future Kat’s Korner.

*****

She ended up
sleeping on Rachel’s couch. Morning came too soon and she realized the couch
had been a bad idea; it kinked her neck. She rubbed her eyes, then dragged the
ruby colored chenille blanket off her legs and sat up.

The thick aroma
of bacon hung heavy in the air and for a moment, Katrina didn’t remember why
she was there, just inhaled with a smile.

A second later
memory, an unwelcome guest, seeped through her foggy thoughts. Kat’s Korner was
gone.

Destroyed.

Shouldn’t she
feel more sad? She waited for a minute, waited for the ache of emptiness, for
the loss of meaning.

It didn’t come.
She felt marvelously free instead. A shaky breath escaped her lips.

Rachel stuck her
head out of the kitchen. "You’re up. Good. Food’s almost done." She
popped back in.

Folding the
blanket, Katrina laid it carefully over Rachel’s leather couch.

Rachel liked
things neat as a pin. The apartment, though homey and comfortable, had nothing
out of place. Katrina knew from experience that a rumpled blanket on the couch
could send Rachel into a tizzy. She patted the chenille and then headed into
the tiny kitchen.

"Can I help?"

"No. Sit."
Rachel brought a plate loaded with eggs, bacon and toast and set it in front of
her. Rachel’s sleek cream blouse rustled with the movement and her gold hoops
glinted in the weak kitchen light.

"Are you
going to work?" Katrina bit her bacon and chewed, not hungry.

"I have a
client meeting at ten." Rachel slid into the chair across from her. Her mouth
puckered.

Katrina knew that
look. It was her "I’ve got bad news and I’m trying to figure out the best
way to tell you" look.  She swallowed, then eyed Rachel. "What?"

"I found out
something while in New York."

Katrina set the
bacon down, wiped the grease from her fingers on the napkin beside her plate.
Faced her friend. "And?"

"I don’t
want to hurt you but. . ." Rachel folded her hands. "There’s
something you should know about Alec." She took a deep breath, gaze
skipping around the room before returning to Katrina. "Alec is a
businessman, first and foremost."

Katrina sipped
her orange juice. "Before you say anything, are you sure it’s what I need
to hear?" She wiggled in the chair, knowing she was only trying to bury
her head in the sand again.

An odd look
crossed Rachel’s face. Uncertainty? "You’re right. I’m going to double
check my sources before I say anything."

"Are you sure?"
Katrina set her cup down a little too hard. The sound split through the
kitchen.

"Absolutely.
The last time I ran my mouth about Alec, I was wrong." Rachel stood,
leaned forward and hugged Katrina. "I’ll stop by the store—"

"No Kat’s
Korner." Katrina could feel the tightness in her smile. "I’ll be at
home, until I figure out what to do."

*****

Alec cracked his
eye open, then recoiled when the morning sun blinded him. He turned onto his
side. The hotel bed groaned with the movement.

Facing away from the
window, he glanced at the alarm clock on the table beside the bed. Eight
o’clock. Later than he usually slept. Was Katrina awake? Had Rachel said
anything to her?

He sat up,
rubbing sleep-gritty eyes. The only way to find out would be to call Katrina.

But after last
night. . .

Her store was
gone. Obliterated by hungry flames. And she wanted to rebuild.

He groaned. It
wouldn’t be worth it. Sure, the Pizza Place brought in money, but Kat’s Korner?
Yet she would stubbornly cling to the store like ivy on a brick wall.

He shook the
blankets off and stood. First things first. A shower, then a wade through the
paperwork piled on the hotel desk. Not to mention an in-depth study of the
insurance on the building, what was covered and what wasn’t.

There must be some
way to rebuild Kat’s Korner without going into debt. Some way to salvage
Katrina’s dream without ruining his own. At least this was his deal and not a
contract he’d negotiated for Uncle Jim. More leeway and whatever he chose to do
would only affect him and Katrina.