Authors: Marie Ferrarella
into jail overnight so fast their cameras wouldn't be quick enough to record it."
She rubbed her hand along his arm and found her mouth growing a little dry. She had to
force the words out. "Relax, you're among friends."
"Haven't you heard? Coltrane doesn't have any friends beside his dog," Josh quipped.
"We're here to fix that," Patience cheerfully informed the other patrolman. But she
wasn't about to accomplish this with Josh shadowing her every move. She had the distinct
feeling that she was the unwilling participant in a tug-of-war. And Josh was tugging a lot
harder than Brady was.
She needed help.
Scanning the room, she found and made eye contact with her cousin, Janelle. Uncle Brian's
only daughter was an assistant in the D.A.'s office. Growing up, she and Janelle had been
on a special wavelength. Patience could only hope that some things didn't change just
because they were older now.
It took a moment, but then she watched her cousin disengage herself from the person she
was talking to and make her way toward them. Patience secretly blessed Janelle.
The relief in Patience's eyes might not have been evident to some people, but Janelle felt
as if she knew her cousin inside and out. Besides, the dilemma was easy to spot. Patience
had one too many men at her side. Judging by her stance, Janelle knew which one was the
spare and which was not. If she was surprised about Patience's choice of dates—
policemen—she gave no indication.
The moment she reached them, Janelle turned her attention to the friendlier of the two.
"Hi, I'm Janelle Cavanaugh, Patience's cousin, and you're…?"
"Josh Graham."
Janelle reached around Josh to get a glass of wine. The maneuver was shameless and she
knew it, but she was doing it to bail Patience out and that was enough to assuage her
conscience.
"So—" she lifted the glass to her lips "—what do they have you doing in the police
department, Josh?"
"He's with the K-9 unit," Patience told her. "The bomb squad."
"Really?" Janelle's peaches-and-cream complexion grew a little rosier as she registered
rapt attention. "Why don't we take these three outside where they can run around a bit?"
She hooked her arm through Josh's. "Tell me, how do you get a dog to find a bomb?" With
a minimum of effort, she had man and dogs halfway across the room, heading for the patio.
I owe you, Janey,she thought, taking her hat off to Janelle. She turned to Brady, who
looked a little bemused by the quick extraction. "My cousin works at the D.A.'s office."
He laughed dryly. "I'd hate to show up on the wrong side of her table." The woman was
clearly a master at anything she undertook. Picking up two glasses of wine, he handed one
to Patience. "So, what was all that really about?"
She thought of denying any knowledge of what he was talking about, but that was just
absurd. Besides, she liked the fact that he wasn't easily dazzled. "So you caught that. I
got the feeling you and Josh weren't exactly buddies. So I called for help."
"How, through mental telepathy?"
"Janelle and I can usually guess what the other's thinking. Comes in handy."
"I'll bet." Brady shrugged, thinking of her comment about Josh. "Graham's all right." He said the words without feeling. He and the other policeman had had about five or so
conversations in total, with Graham doing most of the talking. "He seems to be interested
in you."
"Josh is always asking me out." She shrugged. "I figure it's all in good fun."
He studied her for a moment as he took a sip of wine. "Then you've gone out with him?"
"No." Her eyes met his. "I don't go out with policemen."
"I see. Then this is—"
"A party," she answered simply, then felt she needed to add the real reason behind her
invitation. "And a way to show you that families can get along."
"What makes you think I need to see that?" He saw the knowing look that came into her
eyes. He didn't want anyone trying to make him reassess his life. He'd already come to
terms with it, both past and present. Which meant he knew what his future would be like.
More of the same. He turned from her as he took another long sip. "Why don't you just
stick to treating animals?"
She grinned. "I kinda thought I was." Eyeing her, Brady opened his mouth to retort, then found himself laughing. "Good," Patience pronounced. "You have a nice laugh. Now, let's go say hi to Shaw and Moira so I can unload this present. And then I'll get you started on one
of Uncle Andrew's hors d'oeuvres."
Taking the box from her to enable her mobility, Brady let her take the lead. She wove her
way toward the guests of honor like a freshly released arrow, all the while holding on to
his hand. She'd taken it without a word. His first instinct was to pull back, but he kept his
hand where it was, with her fingers around his. He savored the contact and told himself he
was an idiot.
The crowd around Shaw and Moira turned out to be too thick to penetrate.
Patience looked at Brady over her shoulder. "We'd need a bulldozer to get through.
Maybe later." She saw a huge pile of gifts not far off. She handed him the one she'd
brought. "Just put that over there," she instructed.
"Any other orders?" he asked after he dropped off the gift.
She grinned again, wounding him without drawing a drop of blood, and slipped her hand
over his one more time. "Yeah, follow me."
This time, she led him into the kitchen. For once it was empty. Almost. She stopped short
as she came up on her uncle nuzzling his wife.
Her eyes danced as she looked back at Brady. Everyone in the family thought of what had
happened to Andrew and Rose as their own personal miracle. "Looks like food isn't the only
thing cooking in here." Patience put her hand up in front of her face to pretend to block
her view of the couple. "Sorry about that."
"Don't be," Andrew laughed. Still holding the woman he loved close, he threaded his arm
around her waist. "I'm not." He looked up at Patience and the man who had clearly caught his niece's fancy, whether she was willing to admit it or not. "What can I get you two?"
"One of your canapés to start with. I promised Brady an experience he'd remember a long
time," Patience said.
Andrew gave his niece a long, significant look and then smiled.
"All right. I've got a fresh tray right there. Do me a favor and take it out to the crowd,
will you?" he asked Patience. And then his eyes shifted toward his wife. "I've got a little pressing, unfinished business to tend to first."
"Will do." Reaching for the tray, she smiled when Brady picked it up for her and started for the living room. She quickly followed in his wake. "Thanks."
"How long have they been married?" he asked her once they were clear of the kitchen.
"Over thirty years," she told him. "But he's just recently found her again and I guess they're like newlyweds right now." She glanced back toward the kitchen and didn't bother
hiding the sigh that escaped. If only her own parents had been half as much in love, maybe
things would have turned out differently for all of them. She pushed the thought from her
mind as she glanced back at Brady. "I think it's sweet."
He'd forgotten about that. The resolution to the fifteen-year-old case had been in all the
local papers. Rose Cavanaugh had driven off one morning fifteen years ago after an
argument with her husband, only to disappear. Her car was found in the river the next day
and it was assumed by everyone but the chief that her body had been washed out to sea.
He never once gave up hope that he'd find her someday. Years later, he did. She had been
working as a waitress in a diner up the coast. A blow to the head and her harrowing near-
death experience in the river had caused her to lose her memory, something obviously in
the past now, he thought.
How did it feel to have someone come back from the dead? he wondered. An emotion
vaguely resembling envy fluttered through him before disappearing. He couldn't have
these normal feelings, normal reactions. He had to remember that.
"I guess your uncle was lucky."
She noted the wistful tone in his voice and wondered at it. At least this made him human,
she thought. "Guess so."
He had to admit it. Dinner was everything Patience had promised. And more. The former
chief of police knew his way around a kitchen. Brady couldn't remember when he'd eaten a
better meal. Everything he had was even better than the last. He had no idea why the
Cavanaughs didn't all weigh in at three hundred pounds.
More impressive than the meal was the company. Granted most of the department, active
and retired, had been invited, but he'd never seen people get along the way Patience's
relatives did. Love seemed to echo from every corner, every pore. Not the sickeningly
sweet kind but the living, breathing, you're-my-brother-sister-cousin-child and I'd-go-to-
hell-and-back-twice-for-you kind.
Something he'd never felt. Or, if he had, it was only in a small way. On a lonely road.
But he also had to get going. He could only be in the presence of a happy, functional
environment for so long before he needed space.
He and Patience were sitting outside, on the patio. She saw him shift restlessly. He'd
lasted longer than she'd thought he would. "Time to go?" she guessed, watching his face.
"You don't have to leave on my account," he told her. "I'll get a ride with someone."
Abandoning her seat, she managed to match him stride for stride. "That's all right. Let's
just go get the dogs. I'm tired."
He knew she was lying, but said nothing.
The ride back was conducted in basic silence. She tried to coax him into a conversation
once, then decided to let him have a few minutes of quiet. God knew he'd earned it. When
they reached her driveway, she half expected master and dog to bound out of the car
together, head for their own vehicle and leave.
That he walked her to her door was a bonus she hadn't expected.Tacomaled the way, with
King bringing up the rear. She was aware only of Brady.
Digging out her key, she turned toward him. "I'm glad you came," she told him. "Very glad."
"Yeah," Brady half mumbled under his breath. "Me, too."
She didn't believe him, but she wanted to. "Really? They can be kind of overwhelming
when taken en masse like that, but no matter what happened at home, they always made
me feel like I belonged. Made me feel loved."
He paused, wanting to kiss her, knowing he shouldn't. For both their sakes. She didn't
want to get involved with a policeman and he just didn't want to get involved, period. But
he could feel himself weakening.
What came out, did so out of the blue. Purely a defense mechanism meant to cut himself
off from her. "I shot my father," he said without any preamble.
She stared at him, stunned, trying to figure out how she should react to this. "Excuse
me?"
"My father," Brady repeated. "I shot him." He looked at her for a long moment. "I just thought you might want to know that before you go any further with whatever you think
you're doing for my own good."
She tried to reconcile the man standing in front of her with the information he'd just
given her. She couldn't.
"You shot him?"
"Yes."
"Intentionally?"
He smiled then. It wasn't the kind of question that first came to mind for a lay person.
"Easy to see you've got police in your background."
"Answer the question. Did you kill him on purpose?"
For a second he allowed himself to go back to a time that was worse than living in hell.
"I must have killed him a thousand times in my mind. Just as many times as I rescued my
mother from him and talked her into running away with us. With Laura and me." He'd done
neither. He blew out a breath, looking into the night. When he turned his eyes back in her
direction, he seemed calmer and in control. "But did I aim the gun at him that night, dead
center and pull the trigger? No. That was an accident."
Her mouth was bone-dry. "What kind of an accident?" she asked. "Handling-the-gun-and-it-went-off kind of accident?"
"No, more like wrestling-the-old-man-and-trying-to-get-the-gun-out-of-his-hand-before-
he-killed-someone-worth-mourning kind of accident." He sighed. Try as he might, there
were no regrets. His father had been a man who hadn't deserved to live. "It went off.
Hitting him in the chest. He was dead before he ever reached the hospital."
Things fell into place. She wanted to hold him, to embrace him and to tell him it was all
right. "Do you want to come inside?"
"It's late."
"I didn't ask you for the time."
"No, I guess you didn't."
She took a step back, the invitation reinforced.
"So?"
Brady followed her inside without another word.
«^»
Themoment the door closed behind them, they knew. Knew this wasn't a time for
conversation, for words that were meant to soothe but came a distant second to true
desire. They needed the comfort that came through touch, through the most basic of
physical contact.
Through the mingling of bodies and, just perhaps, of souls.
Behind him, Brady heard the click of the lock as the door met the jamb. Hurting from
memories he'd long since thought buried, he swept Patience into his arms and kissed her.
Kissed her the way he'd been longing to for what felt like an eternity.