08-A Thousand Bones, page 38
“You never talked to anyone about this?” Louis asked finally. “I mean the rape, not even a doctor?”
She shook her head but didn’t look at him, because she heard something in his voice that told her he meant a psychiatrist.
“Just that one doctor in Traverse City,” she said. “After the bones were buried…” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know, it was like I just buried everything.”
“How long did you stay there after?” Louis asked.
“About a year. I wanted to make sure Mike was going to be all right, that everyone was going to be okay.” She paused. “But after a while, I couldn’t stay there anymore. I loved that town, but I couldn’t look at anything without seeing the scars.”
“So you quit?” Louis said.
She nodded. “I packed up my stuff and left. I stayed with my mother in Cleveland over Christmas and then just started driving south. I didn’t stop until I felt warm. I put in some apps in Tallahassee, Tampa, and Lauderdale. Everyone was looking for women, so I had my pick. I took Miami-Dade because when I got down there and saw the place, I knew it was as far away from Echo Bay as I could get. Miami’s not the kind of town where you get attached to things easily.”
They started walking again. They were almost back to the cottage. An elderly couple sat in lawn chairs facing the setting sun. They nodded and lifted their wineglasses in greeting as Joe and Louis passed.
“Why did you tell me all this, Joe?” Louis asked.
She stopped and faced him. “Because I knew you wouldn’t think…” She shook her head, her eyes falling to the sand.
“What, that you murdered him?” Louis asked.
She couldn’t look at him.
“I can’t judge you on that, Joe,” he said. “I’m the last person to judge anyone on something like that.”
He took her hand, and they walked on, not saying anything else until they were back at the low dune in front of Louis’s cottage.
“Sit down,” Louis said gently.
Joe dropped down to the sand. Louis sat down beside her. They looked out at the sun, now bleeding onto the shimmering horizon.
“What happened to the others?” Louis asked.
“Holt stayed for two more years and then took a job with the Grand Rapids PD. I think he got married,” she said. “Mike is still Leelanau County sheriff.”
“You’re still in touch with him?”
Joe hesitated. “I wasn’t until this week. He called me the other day.” She closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. “He wants me to come back and work for him as undersheriff, Louis. He’s taking an early retirement next year and wants me to run for sheriff.”
She had expected an outburst of surprise, but when Louis said nothing, she opened her eyes and turned to him.
“I was waiting for you to say you turned him down,” he said.
“I didn’t,” she said softly.
The incredulous look on his face tore at her heart. “Louis, listen to me,” she said. “I told him I had to think about it. And I needed to talk to you first.”
She could see a veil descending over his gray eyes, and she knew it was because it had been so very hard for him to open himself enough to love her.
“You’re free to make your own decisions, Joe,” he said finally. “We haven’t promised each other anything here.”
“I know,” she whispered.
The hiss of the waves filled the silence.
“Why did you tell me this whole story?” he asked finally.
She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I expected you to…” She shook her head slowly, looking out at the water.
“Expected me to what?” Louis said. “Tell you what you did was okay? Make you feel okay so you can go back and make things right? What, Joe, what did you expect from me? Some sort of absolution?”
She closed her eyes against the sting of tears. Rafsky was there in her mind now, the way he had looked when they said goodbye. He had not contacted her in thirteen years. But he knew where she was. The cards had started coming the first Christmas she joined the Miami-Dade police department. From Gina, not Rafsky. Five cards, and then they stopped. She understood why Rafsky had to keep his distance. He had been her mentor, her priest, and when she had sinned, she burdened him with her secret. He had no choice in turning his back on her. That was the kind of man he was, the kind of cop he was.
If it was absolution she was seeking now, she knew neither Rafsky nor Louis could give it. She had lost something out there in the cold. Roland Trader had taken away her belief in her own strength. But she had lost something even more important the day they left him to die. Once the heat of vengeance had faded, she had felt a coldness in its place. It had served her well for thirteen years, made her the kind of cop she needed to be to survive in Miami, brought her a detective’s gold badge. But the coldness had cost her too much.
“Joe,” Louis said softly.
She didn’t move.
“Joe, look at me.”
She opened her eyes. He was turned toward her, his face dark in the slanting red light of the setting sun.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
“I want…” She faltered.
“What do you need?”
“I need to go back,” she said. “Just for a while, maybe a year or two.”
He shook his head. “It’s an elected position, Joe, a four-year commitment,” he said gently. “You don’t walk away from people who put their trust in you.”
Now he looked out over the water. “Besides, I heard something in your voice when you talk about that place,” he said. “Despite what happened there, you love it and you want to go home.”
“And you won’t leave here, will you?” she said.
He shook his head slowly. “I have a commitment here, people who’ve put their trust in me, and I can’t walk away from that.”
She knew he was talking about Ben Outlaw, the boy whose kidnapping had brought them together. Ben was twelve now, a fragile age for any boy, especially one without a father.
Joe was watching Louis’s profile, thinking now about how hard it had been for him to find a place where he felt at peace. And that place was right here.
She looked out at the water. The sun was just above the horizon now, melting into the purple water of the gulf. There was a soft breeze blowing, redolent of salt. And coconut oil lotion, she realized, although there were no other people on the beach except them.
“Ever heard of something called the green flash?” Louis said.
She could barely hear his voice above the whisper of the surf. She shook her head. “No.”
“It’s an atmospheric phenomenon where if conditions are just right, the top edge of the sun will turn green just as it disappears,” Louis said.
She was quiet, watching him.
“The Celts believed that anyone who saw it could never be hurt in love,” he went on. “Jules Verne wrote a story about it. ‘He who has been fortunate enough once to behold it is enabled to see closely into his own heart and to read the thoughts of others.’ That’s what he wrote about it.”
A small smile tipped his lips as he watched the sun. “I’ve been watching for it for years now, but I’ve never seen it.”
He turned suddenly to her, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. She closed her eyes, memorizing the feel of his lips on hers for when she would need it.
She pulled back slowly. “Can we make this work, Louis?” she asked.
He smiled and pointed to the horizon. “Watch,” he said.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Echo Bay, Michigan, is not a real town. It is a creation of our imaginations, a compilation of many places in northern Michigan. It stands as our homage to the towns, forests, and lakes of our childhood. If we took some license with our use of the Leelanau Peninsula’s geography, we hope our Michigan readers will forgive us and understand that we were trying only to capture the spirit and beauty of this special place.
We have some friends we need to acknowledge who have kindly lent their expertise to our books: legal eagles Bradley R. Weiss and Mark J. Loterstein; our good buddy Dr. Doug Lyle, who keeps us on track for all things forensic and medical; and our favorite weapons wizard, Fred Rea.
And last, we need to thank three people who make our books possible. To our talented and patient editor, Mitchell Ivers: Your vision helped give this book its shape. To our agent extraordinaire, Maria Carvainis: Thank you for being at our side through the marathon (“It’s not a sprint!”). And most of all, to my husband, Daniel: You believed in us before anyone did, including ourselves.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Part I Somebody’s Daughter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Part II A Walk In The Woods
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Part III Hunger Moon
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 54
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
P J Parrish, 08-A Thousand Bones
