“Dad prayed for me last night,” Jenna said as she turned toward the stairs.
“Oh?”
“That’s a good dad who will pray for his kid, right?”
“Yes.”
“I think prayer works.” She grinned, and light danced in her eyes. “See you in the morning.”
Kay gathered the Monopoly pieces and put the game back in the box. She hadn’t even talked about her day or what had happened at the jail. She knew Damien would not have approved of her going, and she would’ve heard about it for at least a few days.
Obviously he had enough on his mind.
But Kay knew she’d done the right thing. They had demonstrated strength in numbers, and as they had walked out of that jail, Jill started laughing. It was the first time she had ever heard the woman laugh. Kay knew Jill felt free, felt strong. Before they’d gotten into the car, Jill took her arm. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“You’re not alone anymore,” Kay said, hugging her. “We’re friends. I’m here to help you.”
Kay loaded the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher and turned out the lights downstairs. As she climbed to the second floor, she had an overwhelming sense that everything was going to be okay.
30
Damien bristled against the cold north wind that snapped and snaked around the complex of condos. Even though his hands were shoved far into his pockets, he still couldn’t find a warm spot for them.
He leaned against his car, hoping to block some of the wind, and waited. The individual condos boasted a variety of Christmas decorations, from out-of-sync blinking Christmas lights to oddly decorated palm trees on the balconies. Even with all the lights and decorations, it didn’t feel like Christmas this year. Eight days away. Usually he’d be attending parties and buying gifts. But he couldn’t get his mind or heart wrapped around the festivities this year.
He definitely wouldn’t be hanging out in the cold, waiting for someone he had to confront in this way because the guy wouldn’t talk to him otherwise.
He heard the opening of a door and stood upright, tugging at the bottom of his coat as he watched unit 105.
Soon enough, Gavin Jenkins rounded the sidewalk, adjusting his belt and holster and everything else that hung off him. He was so distracted by it that he didn’t bother to look up.
“Gavin.”
His head snapped up. He couldn’t have hidden his shock any less had Damien been America’s Most Wanted.
“I just need to talk to you,” Damien said, holding out his hands for no apparent reason except it seemed like the appropriate thing to do in front of someone with quick access to a gun.
Judging by Gavin’s expression, if he weren’t wearing a certain badge of courage, he might’ve bolted. Damien could only guess that what kept him standing there was the uniform.
And it wasn’t for fear for his life, either. Gavin knew good and well why Damien stood there waiting for him.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Underwood?” Gavin asked, his stance and demeanor instantly changing. “You’re waiting outside my residence?”
“I didn’t want to have this discussion at the police station.”
“I imagine not. You’re not a popular guy right now.”
Damien looked away for a moment, trying to compose himself. He was no fan of Gavin Jenkins either. “I’m here to talk about Frank, but you already knew that.”
“I can’t give you any information about the case.”
“I’m not asking for that, and I don’t think you know anything anyway, being a rookie and all. They don’t tell you much, do they?”
“I don’t think we have anything to say to each other,” Gavin said, starting to walk away.
“You’re wrong,” Damien said. “I have a lot to say to you. Namely about how you could talk to your captain and make it sound like Frank had anything to do with that Web site.”
“Look, I realize you’re upset. We’re all upset about what happened to Frank. I didn’t spin it one way or another, though. I told the captain what I had observed. The fact is, whether you like it or not, Frank was on edge. Disappearing all the time. Obsessed with this Web site. Not over his divorce. Moody. I saw it firsthand. Whatever conclusions they drew from that wasn’t up to me.”
“Yeah, he was a little rough around the edges, but you know he was a man of character.”
“I know.”
“Then why not defend him? Why let his good name be dragged through the mud?”
Gavin just stared, still trying to maintain that stupid stoic expression on his face. “It doesn’t look like it’s his name anymore,” he finally said, looking Damien in the eye.
Damien didn’t flinch. “Well, better mine than his. At least I can defend myself.” He looked down, wondering what the point was to all of this. Yeah, it felt good to confront the kid, but so what? What had that accomplished? “I just… he’s my friend. He was one of the finest human beings I know. He went over to his ex-wife’s apartment to try to save her life. He sensed she was in danger. That’s the kind of man he was. He would’ve done the same thing for me. For anyone in my family. And even you. Do you know what his dying words were?”
Gavin shook his head.
“‘She’s worth fighting for.’ Even as he lay there dying, he said that she was worth fighting for and always would be.”
Gavin’s expression changed. He looked curious.
“What?” Damien asked.
“He said that to me too. All the time.”
“What?”
“‘She’s worth fighting for.’ But he wasn’t talking about his ex-wife. He was talking about Marlo.”
Marlo?
Gavin stepped to the side and around Damien. “I have to get to work.”
Damien watched him climb into an oversize, manhood-feeding pickup and drive away. Just when he was about to give up on this town, Frank reminded him, even from the grave, what there was to fight for.
He turned and headed into the cold wind.
Kay stirred her coffee, watching the cream swirl through the blackness. She took her mug and walked to the living room window that faced the street. A miserable cold spell had set in. The cloudy gray sky looked heavy and low. She’d not even changed out of her pajamas yet. Her mind, wrought with distraction, was having a hard time keeping pace with the usual schedule and doing such mundane things as combing her hair.
A certain comfort enveloped her, though, as she sipped the coffee and stared into the streets of her neighborhood. She couldn’t quite identify from where it came, because so much was in disarray. But it was something in Jenna, something she saw last night and this morning too. A sense of fortitude and resolve. She held her head a little higher, stood straighter, looked adamant and determined. For weeks now, her shoulders had remained in a constant slump. But not this morning. This morning she had a gleam in her eye like nothing could stop her.
And Kay had gotten a lot off her chest. Talked to someone who could relate. Came to understand some things about herself and her past and how it had affected her all these years. How she’d mothered from a deep fear she hadn’t realized was still with her.
She had a lot to share with her family, namely Jenna. A lot of forgiveness to ask for. A lot of confessing to do.
Kay wasn’t sure how much time had passed as she leaned against the window, contemplating what life had delivered to her family. She was just about to get a refill on her coffee when a familiar blue sedan pulled into her driveway.
Jill.
At once, she panicked. She was in her pajamas, without a stitch of makeup on, and hair matted on one side of her head.
Jill opened her car door, struggling to get out with something big in her hands.
Kay started to rush upstairs but stopped. Why the vanity? Here was a woman who was at her most vulnerable state, with an adulterous husband in jail, charged with murder. What impression, exactly, was Kay worried about giving? There were no more impressions to be made. Only honesty and compassion.
She set her mug on the kitchen counter and went to the front door, opening it before Jill had even made it up the porch steps.