Читать книгу The Chosen Child - Brenda Mott - Страница 9

NIKKI STRUGGLED to control her anger as she looked at her husband. “Vengeance won’t bring Anna back.” In the four months since the accident, they’d made little progress in working through their grief, moving past the loss of their baby girl. And Cody’s attitude wasn’t helping.

His dark blue eyes held hers. “Maybe not. But I still intend to find the son of a bitch who killed our daughter.” He rose from his chair and walked out of the room.

Embarrassed, Nikki sighed, leaned back in her chair and faced Regina Jeffries. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Cody needs to work out his feelings in his own way.” She studied Nikki with her expressive eyes. “Obviously, revenge against the hit-and-run driver responsible for your sister’s accident is not your first concern.”

“No, that’s just it.” Nikki shook her head, the heated words she and Cody had exchanged ringing in her mind, giving her a headache.

Why are you so hell-bent on finding the guy, Cody? Let the State Highway Patrol and the sheriff’s office do their jobs.

It’s not that simple, Nikki. I wish you’d try to understand.

“Let’s talk about what you think is more important.” Regina glanced at her watch. “We’ve still got fifteen minutes left.”

Nikki shook her head. “I think I’d better go after Cody.” She stood and gave Regina a small smile. “Thanks. Hopefully we’ll see you next week.”

“I’ll be here.”

Outside the three-story brick building of Colorado Family Counseling Services, Nikki paused. Cody wasn’t in their truck, parked at the curb. He wasn’t anywhere in sight. Where had he gone? Her patience wearing thin, Nikki craned her neck, looking up and down the few blocks that made up Main Street in their little mountain town of Deer Creek. Through the plateglass window of Pearl’s Diner she caught sight of him, sulking over a cup of coffee. Head bent so that his black cowboy hat partially hid his face, he reminded her more of a pouting teenager than a thirty-one-year-old man. Half tempted to get in the pickup and drive away without him, Nikki instead took a deep breath and strode across the street. The bell on the door tinkled as she entered.

Cody didn’t look up when she slid into the booth across from him, and she waited until the waitress left with her order for coffee and a doughnut before she spoke, keeping her voice low. “Care to tell me what that was all about?”

He stared into his coffee. “I’m tired, Nikki. That’s all.”

“Maybe you should try coming to bed at night then, instead of falling asleep in front of the television.” She knew he purposely did that to avoid sleeping with her.

He looked up. “I’m tired of fighting with you.”

“I thought that was the purpose of counseling. To sort things out instead of arguing.” She hated what Anna’s death had done to their already shaky marriage. Their relationship had been tested by the injustice of three miscarriages in two years, and now they’d lost Anna. “How can we do that if you walk out in the middle of our session?”

“Do we have to do this here?” He indicated the room full of patrons enjoying Pearl’s down-home cooking and conversation with friends and neighbors.

“No, we don’t.” Nikki stood. “You know what, Cody? I’m just as tired as you are. I’ll see you at home.”

She turned and nearly collided with the waitress who’d brought the coffee and doughnut she’d ordered. Nikki eyed the huge, chocolate-glazed pastry, anticipating the comfort she knew she’d find in curling up with the treat in a quiet corner of her bedroom. “Can I get that to go, Sherry? Sorry to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble.” Sherry smiled and darted back around the counter.

Cody was at Nikki’s elbow before she reached the cash register.

“We drove here together,” he reminded her.

“I thought I’d go see Jana.” Nikki’s longtime friend owned the bookstore down the street. “She can give me a ride home on her noon break. It’s my turn to buy her lunch anyway.”

“Fine.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line and slapped money down on the counter to pay for their order. “See you later.” He shot out the door and drove away in the Chevy.

Take-out bag in hand, Nikki headed down the block.

An hour and a half later, Jana drove her home, pulling up the long driveway of the sixty-acre ranch. Not even the welcome sight of the horses grazing in the sun was enough to lift Nikki’s spirits. She climbed from Jana’s car, palms sweating at the thought of picking up where she and Cody had left off. Both the truck and Cody’s squad car were parked in front of the garage, today being his day off.

“You’ll call if you need me?” Jana’s voice drew her from her thoughts.

“Of course.” Nikki lifted her hand in a wave. “Thanks again.”

“You bet.”

Inside, she found Cody in the kitchen. He’d made a sandwich, but had left it half-eaten. She sat at the table near his elbow. “What’s happening to us?”

“I don’t know,” he said quietly.

Silence gripped the room. “We need to find a way to get past this,” Nikki said. “How can we do that if you’re not willing to try?”

There were sorrow and hurt in the look he gave her. “I am trying, Nikki. But you don’t seem to understand that. You think going to town once a week to spill our guts to some stranger is going to make everything right. But it won’t.”

“And neither will your obsession with finding the drunk driver.” Nikki struggled to contain her temper. “Cody, I want to see justice for Anna, too. I want the jerk who ruined our lives to pay.” She leaned toward him, and laid her hand on his wrist. “But if you let revenge consume you, we’ll never be able to move on with our lives.”

He pulled away from her and stood. Raking his hands through his dark hair, he began to pace. “I’m a cop. It’s my duty to uphold the law.”

“You’re too close. Let the Highway Patrol and the sheriff handle this.”

Cody stopped pacing. “You do what you need to do to cope with Anna’s death. Why can’t you leave me to do what I need to?”

She leaned back in her chair. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your hair. Your clothes.” He shook his head. “I’ve known you since high school, and this—” he indicated her bright pink jeans, lacy blouse and pink cowboy boots “—is not you.”

Stung, Nikki’s jaw dropped. “I thought you liked my new look.” She fiddled with a strand of her recently dyed-blond, shoulder-length cut. “And what’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Nothing is wrong with the clothes, Nikki.” Heaving a sigh, Cody sat down again and stared at her. “They’re just not you. The colors, your makeup, none of it is you. Even Regina noticed the changes.”

“Yes, but she said they were good changes.” Defensively, Nikki folded her arms, suddenly conscious of her extra weight. She’d eaten her way through her depression, until she’d gone from the severe weight-loss she’d suffered since Anna’s death, to being ten pounds past her normal body size. But food gave her comfort. Something she hadn’t found anyplace else lately.

“Exactly my point.” Cody looked at her as if she were dense. “You cope your way, now let me cope in mine.”

“So, what you’re saying is that once you’ve tracked down the hit-and-run driver and put him away, things will be A-OK again? Everything will just go back to normal?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “And women say men don’t listen.”

“I’m listening, Cody. You’re the one who’s not.” Tears burned her eyes, and her throat tightened as she struggled not to cry. “I’ve found a healthy outlet for my feelings. Revenge isn’t healthy. You’ve got to find a better way than that to move past our little girl’s death. Regina can help us get back on track and work through this together.”

“I’m not so sure that’s the answer.” The look in his eyes chilled her.

“What are you saying?”

He was silent a moment before he answered. “I’ve been thinking about moving in with Jordan for a while. I need some time and space.”

Fear gripped her. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes,” he said. “I do.”

Nikki fought to control her panic. She’d never been one to let emotions overrule good judgment. “Please don’t.”

“I’m not giving up, I just…” He let the sentence trail away. A fly landed on his discarded sandwich and he flicked it away, scowling. “I’m just taking a step back, Nikki. I think it’s best.”

Best. Not the word she’d use to describe what he proposed. “Please, Cody, just…wait.” God, if he moved out there might be no turning back.

“Wait for what?”

For us. For whatever it took to stop this hell they’d lived in for the past four months. She took a deep breath. “When I talked to Amanda on the phone last week, she asked me to come to Tennessee for a visit.” The accident had left Amanda unable to cope with her job as an RN in the maternity ward of the local hospital, or with anything else for that matter, including the tension between the three of them. She’d fled Colorado and now lived in the hills of Tennessee, in the cabin where their granny had taken care of them for the better part of their childhood. “I’ve been thinking I might take her up on her offer. I had planned to talk to you about it today, after our session with Regina.”

Now it was Cody’s turn to look apprehensive. “You’re going to fly out there?”

She shook her head. “Drive.”

His eyes widened. “Nikki, it’s fifteen hundred miles to Boone’s Crossing.”

“I know. That’s why I want to drive. It’ll give me some time to think.” She stared at the tabletop. “If I leave in the morning, I can be there by Saturday. I don’t want Amanda to face Sunday by herself.” She felt his gaze on her, and out of the corner of her eye, recognized the set of his jaw.

Sunday, June twentieth, would’ve been Amanda’s due date.

Cody would talk about little else besides his need for revenge. He had yet to open up and talk to her about their baby girl.

“Amanda’s been through hell,” he said quietly. “And you need to be with her, too.”

It hurt Nikki to admit that she couldn’t let herself lean on him. She nodded. “And when I come back, you and I can decide what our next step should be.”

“How long will you be gone?”

Her job as a kindergarten teacher left her with the summer months off, school having let out last month, the end of May. “I don’t know. Two weeks, maybe three?”

Cody’s jaw muscles tightened and she knew he wasn’t happy with the idea. “I really hate for you to be out on the highway alone like that. Especially after…” His words trailed away, but she knew what he’d been about to say.

After what had happened to Amanda.

“I’ll be fine, Cody. I’ll take my cell phone and check in with you.”

“Sounds like your mind’s made up.”

“It is.” She hadn’t fully realized it until now. But maybe this was best. Time apart might give them both a chance to cool down. Maybe when she got back home, Cody would be more willing to talk.

And less willing to simply give up and move out.

“All right.” Cody turned his hands palm up in a gesture of resignation.

“Will you wait until I get back to discuss moving in with Jordan?” Her heart raced, and she held her breath.

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll wait.”

“Okay then.” She got up from the table. “Guess I’d better start packing.”

Nikki headed for the bedroom, half hoping Cody would call out for her not to go. To instead stay with him.

But he said nothing as she left the room.

THE DRONE of the dispatcher’s radio faded into the background as Cody tried to focus on the paperwork at hand, a task he normally hated. But he didn’t want to go home.

Nikki had been gone only two days, and already it felt like forever. He hated the emptiness of their house without her. It felt as if his life had suddenly veered south to hell the minute she’d driven away. One minute he’d had it all, right down to the proverbial white picket fence and family dog—if you could call a retired police dog with an attitude proverbial. And now he sat looking for excuses not to go home.

He scooted his chair closer to his desk and bent over it a little more intently. But his thoughts circled back to Nikki.

He’d called her on her cell phone so many times he’d lost count and had been relieved to know she’d made it to Boone’s Crossing safely. But when he’d hung up after their last conversation, he’d felt alone and empty, as though a lifeline to her had been broken.

He hoped her visit to Amanda would help Nikki. She felt so much guilt for having asked her sister to act as a surrogate in the first place.

And he knew he needed to call Amanda himself to apologize for the horrible things he’d said to her before she’d left Colorado, running from demons of her own.

How could you be so stupid, Amanda? So irresponsible. Stopping on a dark highway like that, for God’s sake!

He hadn’t meant it. In the pain of losing his baby girl, he’d lashed out at everyone. The fact that Amanda had pulled over to offer her cell phone to Caitlin Kramer—stranded on the side of a mountain highway with a flat tire—was typical of Amanda’s generous and caring nature. She couldn’t have known what would happen. Dear Lord, it had taken him longer than it should have to realize the depth of Amanda’s suffering. Baby Anna had been hers as much as she’d been his and Nikki’s.

The thought instantly caused Cody’s self-imposed safety mechanism to kick in, the one that kicked in every time his thoughts veered too close to little Anna. The hurt was still too great, too fresh. Instead, he tunneled all his energy, his grief, into revenge. He’d find the scumbag responsible for tearing apart his family if it was the last thing he did, and see to it that the guy went to prison.

“Man, now I know you’re desperate.”

Cody looked up at the sound of his partner’s voice. Jordan Blake had been with the Deer Creek PD a year longer than Cody, his tenth anniversary around the corner. A beefy man with a deep voice, Jordan had a way of putting the fear of God into a suspect with nothing more than a sharp word or two. He’d cover your back with his life, and Cody couldn’t think of anyone he considered a better friend.

“Yeah, well, it beats going home to my remote control and a cranky police dog that only understands German.” The dog had been trained in non-English commands so that a perp couldn’t distract him.

Jordan perched on the corner of Cody’s desk, his dark eyes sober. “You know the invitation to stay at my place is still open. You can even bring Max. I think I’ve finally figured out what kind of dog biscuits he really likes.”

Cody laughed, then shook his head. “That I doubt, but thanks.”

Jordan sat there a minute, as though fishing for something more to say. Apparently, he came up empty. “I’m out of here,” he said, standing. He gave Cody’s shoulder an affectionate cuff. “Don’t stay too long, cowboy. Go home and take a ride. You know what they say…nothing better for the inside of a man than the outside of a horse.”

Cody nodded. “I might just do that.” The horses could always use a workout, and riding usually helped clear his head and bring things into perspective. Only this time, he was afraid there were no answers.

A short time later, he made his way to the parking lot. The sun beat down on the blacktop, the evening temperature still hovering high enough to make him glad his squad car had air-conditioning. He strode toward where it was parked off to one side of the building. And did a double take.

A boy who looked to be perhaps ten or eleven crouched in front of the car, a can of spray paint clutched in his hand, and as Cody watched, he reached up to finish the job he’d already started. Red initials—DH—big enough to read even from this distance, spread across the hood of Cody’s squad car as the kid’s finger depressed the button on the paint can.

“Hey!” Cody sprang forward. “What the hell are you doing!”

The boy’s eyes widened as he cast a hurried look over his shoulder. Then he ran. Thin as a whip, he wasn’t very tall, but the kid could move. He sprinted from the parking lot and into a field of unmowed grass behind the police station. The mountainous, rural area that surrounded Deer Creek offered plenty of places for a boy to hide. If Cody didn’t catch the kid quickly, he’d be out of sight and long gone.

The boy sped on like a downhill train. He ditched the paint can in a clump of bushes and vaulted over a six-foot chain-link fence at the end of the field as if it were nothing. Berating himself for spending a lot less time at the gym lately than he should have, Cody kept after him. He clambered over the fence but, as he hit the ground, the toe of his shoe caught in a tangle of deep grass, and down he went.

His knee slammed into a rock hard enough to bring a string of creative curses to his lips. With a grunt, Cody scrambled to his feet, feeling like an idiot, hoping the kid hadn’t seen him fall. Even madder than he’d been moments before, he took off again, trying to ignore the fresh shot of pain through his knee. Great. He gave chase as the boy zigzagged through the quiet neighborhood, down a side street.

“I’m warning you, halt!” Cody shouted. Or what? He couldn’t exactly draw his gun on a kid who’d been armed with nothing more than an aerosol can. The boy cast a glance back at him, but made no move to slow down. He wore baggy jeans that exposed colorful boxer shorts, and Cody couldn’t see how he could possibly run without his pants falling around his ankles. Shaggy hair stuck out from under a black ballcap, bill tilted at an angle, and a yellow basketball jersey with the number twelve bunched above his skinny hips.

Cody swerved, taking a shortcut across the front lawn of Old Man Parker’s place—a retired Navy admiral well-known for his dislike of children. The kid was already headed toward the backyard, ready to rocket over the fence, where he could cut across the alley and likely lose Cody by ducking through the next yard, then on into the sagebrush of the surrounding countryside. Cody’s heart flew to his throat, knowing what was on the other side of Parker’s fence.

Luckily, the enormous Doberman pinscher hit the chain-link before the boy did. Teeth bared, the dog barked in a way that said he meant business. The boy skidded to a halt and turned to run the other way, too late. Cody caught him by the arm and spun him around. “Hold it right there!” Fuming, out of breath, he glared at the child.

For a moment, Cody saw fear flicker behind the boy’s brown eyes, but then it was gone, replaced by defiance. The kid squirmed in his grasp. “Let go of me, man.”

“What the hell were you doing—spray-painting my squad car?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Breathing rapidly, the boy shrugged from Cody’s grasp and tried to bolt again.

Cody caught hold of him, simultaneously reaching for his handcuffs. “Oh, really? I suppose that red paint on your hands got there by itself.” He snapped the cuffs on the kid’s scrawny wrists.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing, dude?” The kid squirmed and twisted, tossing a fiery look of resentment over his shoulder.

“That’s Officer Somers to you, and I’m placing you under arrest.”

Panic snaked across the boy’s features before hiding behind a defiant mask once more. “You can’t arrest me. I didn’t do nothin’.”

“Tell it to the judge.” With a not-so-gentle push, Cody set the boy walking, back toward the station.

The kid cursed loudly and vehemently.

From the yard, Parker’s Dobie barked with renewed fervor, and the old man jerked his door open to see what the commotion was about. “Everything’s under control, Admiral Parker,” Cody said. He hurried the kid away before Parker could utter a word. Given the choice between facing the dog or facing the old man, Cody would’ve chosen the Doberman.

Limping along, he sighed, still holding on to the boy, whose face looked vaguely familiar. “What’s your name, son?”

“I ain’t your son,” the kid spat, “and I don’t have to tell you a damned thing.”

“Thank God for small favors,” Cody quipped. “If I had a kid like you…” If he had a kid like this boy, he’d be so grateful for a child of his own, it wouldn’t matter what sort of discipline problems arose.

The boy, looking younger and more frightened by the minute, set his jaw and scowled. “Damned dog.”

“Yeah—a damned good dog. Thor lets Parker know when somebody’s up to no good—like when someone spray-painted the side of his garage last week. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“No.” The boy smirked. “I could’ve outrun you, if it weren’t for that stupid dog.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He hated to admit the kid was probably right. His knee felt as though someone had wedged a grapefruit beneath his skin.

“Maybe you oughta lay off the doughnuts.”

Cody’s already stretched temper snapped. “And maybe you ought to lay off with the smart mouth.”

The kid glared at him, and suddenly Cody remembered where he’d seen him before. He’d been in Nikki’s kindergarten class a few years ago. Dustin Holbrook. Child of an alcoholic mother and a father who’d left shortly after the boy was born, Dustin had been in the foster care system for the better part of his life. Cody hadn’t seen him in a year or two, but if memory served him right, Dustin was eleven. Naturally, he’d grown and changed as he neared puberty. But when Cody looked for it, he could still see the face of the little boy Nikki had taught and cared so much about.

Dustin’s slight build made Cody feel like a big bully, shoving him along down the street. But the kid refused to walk under his own steam. “You know,” Cody continued, shooting Dustin a smirk of his own, “you might want to be thinking about what your foster parents are going to say when I call them.”

“How do you know—” Dustin began, then clamped his mouth shut.

“That you’re in foster care?” Cody gave him a piercing stare. “I know a lot of things, including your name, Dustin.”

Dustin scuffed his toe against the ground as they walked. “Big deal. My foster parents will ground me for a couple of days, maybe take away my video games. Who cares?”

“You’ve got a lot more to worry about than having your video game privileges revoked.”

“What do you mean?” Dustin tried to hide behind his air of bravado, but he looked worried.

“You’re going to juvie.”