Shadows on the Sand (38 page)

As I looked at the chaotic scene, I thought the one thing missing was the television cameras.

And there came a van with the big ABC logo and an eager reporter who jumped out, a camera tech right behind him. Great. We’d not only be tweeted and YouTubed, we’d be on the eleven o’clock news.

The camera recorded Harl, police guard and EMT at his side, as he was brought outside, knife still protruding from his arm. He was whimpering like a baby. In the confusion and crowd, someone jostled him. He shrieked and doubled over. I knew it had to hurt, but did he have to vomit right outside my café?

“Arrest her! She stabbed me,” he kept babbling. Everyone ignored him. He too was read his Miranda rights, then hustled into a second ambulance. They drove him away, a police car following.

Greg collected Chaz from the storeroom and walked him outside. It was all Chaz could do to stay on his feet. An EMT took one look and diagnosed his problem, not that it was hard. His nose was running, his eyes were watering, and he was twitchier than ever. His skin under the harsh lights was a blotchy gray.

An officer I didn’t know walked over to Greg. “I’m to escort him to the hospital.”

Greg held up a finger. “One minute. Chaz, can you hear me?”

Chaz sniffed and looked at him with glazed eyes. “S’all your fault. If you hadn’t kicked me out—”

“You can hear me.” Greg nodded and began reciting, “You have the right—”

“You’re not allowed to say that!” Chaz pointed a shaking finger at Greg. “You aren’t a cop. Only a cop can.”

Greg blinked and stepped back. He looked around. Everywhere there were cops, flashing lights, and static. Emergency vehicles clogged the street,
sirens sounding as men and women from nearby communities arrived to assist. It was everything he feared, everything that set memories screaming in 3-D Technicolor and high-def.

He stood without moving for a few moments. A look of wonder spread over his face. No dazed look. No withdrawal. Wonder.

He spotted me standing with Lindsay and Andi, waiting our turn to tell Chief Gordon our stories. His smile was a glorious thing to behold. I smiled back, and we met halfway.

“I did it,” he said, his voice exultant. “I did what needed to be done.”

I wrapped my good arm around his waist. “Yes, you did. That’s because you’re a cop.” I kissed his cheek.

“I am,” he said. “I’m a cop.”

“Carrie! Lindsay!”

I dropped my head onto Greg’s shoulder as I heard my mother’s frantic voice. Joyous exultation to angry resentment at the sound of two words. I didn’t want to deal with her. Not here, not now.

“In his own way, Michael was easier,” I said.

“Understandable. No history. Just straight-out dislike.” Greg kissed my temple. “You’ve done the hard things before. You can do this one now.” I made a sound of stubborn disagreement.

His hand settled on the nape of my neck, comforting, kind. “She needs you, Carrie—and you need her, whether you like it or not.”

I couldn’t decide which part of his statement I disagreed with more.

“Mom!” Lindsay rushed to Mom with open arms. My heart ached as I watched them embrace. The depth of their emotion scared me on several levels.

Would Linds come to resent me for all the years I’d kept them apart, though in my defense I hadn’t done it maliciously? I’d pictured Mom never changing, and not contacting her had seemed wise. But I’d been protecting
an adult who needed to be free to call her own shots, make her own decisions.

But what if she wanted to move to Atlanta to be close to Mom and Luke? That thought was a weight pressing so hard against my chest it was difficult to breathe. What would I do without my sister in my everyday life?

I looked at my mother and saw an emotional IED capable of blowing my life to smithereens.

Mary P joined the cozy circle of Mom, Lindsay, and Luke, everyone smiling and hugging. I felt abandoned all over again, which was ridiculous. All I had to do was walk to them, and I’d be welcomed.

My feet were stuck to the street where I stood.

“I’ve finally got a father,” I mumbled, staring at Luke. “At my age. How strange is that?”

“He looks like a nice guy,” Greg said. “Maybe he and my dad can become golfing or fishing buddies.”

“Right. They can meet halfway in North Carolina.”

Mom and Luke had both spotted me and were doubtless very aware of me not approaching.

“I’m scared,” I whispered.

“Of course you are.”

I clutched Greg. “Why can’t I be more like Linds? Why can’t I just run to Mom and love her? That’s what I should do, right?”

“You’re allowed to approach slowly and with caution if that’s the way you need to do it, Carrie. No one expects years of pain to disappear in a moment.”

“They did with Lindsay.”

“She’s not you. You bore all the fear and heartache, protecting her. I think what God is asking of you right now is that you’re willing to take first
steps. He’s not asking you to respond like Lindsay. He’s asking that you try as you.”

If all I had to do was try … I felt I could breathe again.

“But—” He ran a knuckle down my cheek.

I nodded. “But I do have to try.” I straightened my shoulders and turned toward my mother.

She and Lindsay stood with arms around each other’s waists, and both of them were crying. Luke watched them with a slight smile. Then his eyes slid to me, and his eyebrow cocked in challenge. I gave him a grim little smile.

I grabbed Greg’s hand. “Come with me.”

“Of course.”

Mom looked up and saw me approaching.

God, help me!

Six Months Later

G
ood morning, officer. May I get you some coffee?” I asked.

The cop nodded. “And one of my sister-in-law’s grilled sticky buns, please.”

“Coming right up.”

I placed the order and got the coffee. When I set the cup down, Greg grabbed my hand.

“How’s your morning been, Mrs. Barnes?”

I rested my arms on the counter and grinned at him. “Fine, Officer Barnes. How about yours?”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, stop mooning over each other.” Mr. Perkins gave a little shudder as he sat on his usual perch. He’d had a bout of pneumonia over the winter that had concerned all of us, but he seemed back in form now that spring was here. Once a week he brought Cilla to the café for lunch.

“Once a week?” I’d teased him when the pattern became obvious back about the end of November. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“It may be once a week here, but—” And he winked.

His smug expression made me laugh. “Mr. Perkins, you rogue.”

“You know it,” he’d said, bony chest swelling with pride.

Now I looked at him. “I can’t smile at my customers?”

He gave a strangled laugh. “You’ve been out of town for a couple of weeks on your honeymoon. Didn’t you smile enough then?”

“You can never smile enough.” I leaned over the counter and kissed my cop.

Our wedding had been an interesting lesson in the expansive power of love. There was Mary P, in all practical ways my mother; my actual mother, who I was learning to like much to my surprise; and my stepfather, who walked me down the aisle. Lindsay, of course, was my maid of honor, and Jem stood as Greg’s best man so he wouldn’t have to choose among his brothers.

Mary P had once again been a great help to me when I was trying to figure out how Mom and Luke were supposed to fit into my life.

“But you’re my mom,” I had told her a short time after Michael’s arrest. Mom and Luke were supposed to leave for Atlanta the next day, and I wasn’t certain about visiting them at Thanksgiving as they wanted. “You were there when I needed you, and I love you.”

She took my hands in hers and looked me in the eye. “Carrie, my dear girl, you know you and Lindsay are more precious to me than I can ever express. If I thought Sue showing up and wanting back in your life would take you away from me, I’d be terribly upset. I’d fight for you. But loving one person doesn’t have to mean not loving another or loving another less.”

“It feels that way,” I said, torn inside.

Mary P shook her head. “Don’t make it so hard, so black and white. It’s not like we’re given a limited quantity of love and we have to spread it out over those in our lives. Love will expand to include any and all you want to include in its circle. You can love your mother and me both.”

The knot inside started to unravel.

“Think of it this way,” Mary P said. “God’s love expands to include all mankind in a general sense and His children in a specific sense. Does He ever say, ‘Oops, I’ve reached my quota of love today. You can’t become My
child’? Of course not. And as His love expands to meet the demand, so does ours—if we let it.”

Over the intervening months I’d found that loving many was easier than I’d imagined. And my true love had found his way too.

It had been a matter of days after his attempt to read Chaz his Miranda rights that Greg approached Chief Gordon about coming back on the force. After several talks with him and the other officers on the small force as well as a thorough psychological evaluation, Greg was reinstated. He did not miss property management one bit.

“Uh-oh,” Mr. Perkins said. “Here he comes.”

There was no need to ask who
he
was. If Mr. Perkins’s tone of voice and Clooney’s sudden scowl didn’t give it away, Andi’s little purr of pleasure as she walked past on her way to serve a table breakfast would have.

Bill swaggered in, unaware that Greg and I had been convinced he was a murderer at one point. He put a ten and a five on the counter. “Three eggs over easy, bacon well done, and a double order of wheat toast with lots of butter. Keep the change.”

These days Bill was flush. He was working twenty-five hours a week at the GameStop in the mall on the mainland. He planned to go back to college in the fall, though I would believe it when I saw it. Bill was more a man of grand schemes than practical action.

“Oh, and a glass of OJ and a cup of coffee. I’ll be back there waiting for Andi.” He pointed to the back booth.

“And I’ll be here waiting for my ulcer to enlarge,” Clooney muttered. He pointed at me. “If nothing else, he’s going to make me as religious as you are. I’ve never prayed so hard about anything in my life.”

“Praying that he go away, no doubt,” Greg said. “Disappear into the ether.”

“If you’re so worried, you should come to church with Andi.” I grinned. “Bill came with her last Sunday.”

Clooney made a disgusted noise. “Church. Who’d have ever thought?”

Whether he meant Bill or himself, I wasn’t sure.

“Say, did you see that piece on Michael and Fred or whatever his name is?” Mr. Perkins asked. “It was on one of those TV news magazines last evening.”

I nodded. “We watched it. Duplicitous thieves.”

“Fred—”

“His real name is Harl Evans.” Andi blew at her bangs in frustration. “I’ve been trying to contact my sister now that he’s in jail to see what she’s going to do—I mean, The Pathway is no more and I’m not sure about her marriage—but she won’t respond.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I worry about her.”

Clooney slid an arm around her slim shoulders. “But you’ve got me, kiddo.”

“Thank God.” She gave him a hug and kissed his cheek.

“The thing on TV said your father was going to jail.” Mr. Perkins was tactful as ever.

Andi made a face. “Can you believe it? My father!” She looked back toward Bill, who was studying the ceiling with amazing absorption as he waited for Andi and his food. “At least Bill doesn’t mind dating a con’s daughter.”

“Hey!” Clooney turned her to face him, a big hand on each shoulder. “Any guy in the world would be lucky to have you like him, and don’t you forget it. I don’t want you ever thinking you have to settle. Why, you’re a heroine, helping the police so much with your DVD and your testimony.”

“You were great, Andi,” Greg said. “I was proud of you.”

“We all were.” But I ached for her. I couldn’t imagine how alone she often felt. Even in my darkest days I always had Lindsay.

She flushed under the praise. “All I did was tell them that Fred Durning wasn’t Harl’s name and that the real Fred Durning is one of the men belonging to The Pathway.”

“They had a nifty little scam built around identity theft,” Greg confirmed. “Join The Pathway, turn over everything to Michael, including credit cards and social security numbers, and he uses all your personal information to buy property for himself under a bogus company developed for him by Jase who, it turns out, was a computer genius.”

“He’d probably still be happily scamming if it hadn’t been for Jennie,” Andi said. “With my father helping him.”

“So would they all.” Clooney held out his cup for a refill.

“Poor Jennie,” Andi said. “I still miss her.”

I gave Andi’s shoulders a quick squeeze, and she gave me a wan smile.

“In a weird way I feel sorry for the real Fred and the others,” I said. “They went to the compound with such high hopes.”

Mr. Perkins snorted.

“They did,” Andi said. “I know because of my family. For most of them their worst sin was being gullible. All they got for giving their trust was their name abused and their credit wrecked.”