Before I Wake (7 page)

* * *

Nathan worked on the hot drink as his conversation with Rae drifted through inconsequential topics. He ignored the amused glances from friends who saw him chatting with her, but who were wise enough not to wander over and interrupt.

He remembered what he’d thought earlier he needed to tell her. “Bruce asked if I’d arrange a carry permit for you. You’ll need to stop by and sign some paperwork at the office, but it should be ready by Tuesday.”

“Thanks. Is there a shooting range in town?”

“At the old concrete factory, the manufacturing floor has been turned into an indoor shooting range for the department. You’re welcome to use it once you have the carry permit; you just need to pick up your own brass.”

His order of onion rings arrived.

Nathan waited to see where Rae wanted to take the conversation, but she didn’t offer a topic. Bruce had said she had worked undercover and Nathan bet that was where she had learned to listen like this, to make the other person desire to talk just to break the silence.

He smiled slightly at her and obliged with another question. “Bruce said you’ve been with the FBI for a long time. Why the change to join a private firm?”

“Bruce asked me.”

Nathan waited for more, but she offered nothing more. It probably was that simple when it came right down to it. “I’m glad you said yes.”

“I expect I’ll learn to enjoy the work; it will certainly have a different pace to it.” Her expression opened up. “Do you play pool? I’m two-for-three tonight. I’m a bit rusty.”

Nathan picked up the basket of onion rings and rose. “The third table is my home away from home. I’ll play you for who buys dessert.”

“Deal.”

* * *

Nathan watched Rae rack the balls solid-stripe-solid and roll the group to the center dot with a brisk snap. In her actions she was precise and quick. He wished she was as easy to read overall. She liked being alone with her thoughts.

Part of him really liked the mystery that presented, but he was very aware how tight his schedule would be over the next weeks until the strike and its aftermath were settled; time was precious and turning this from acquaintances to friends didn’t look like a simple endeavor.

He slipped his friend Ben a folded ten-dollar bill and whispered another request; the young man watching their game rose from his chair and headed toward the M&T Diner.

“Another order?”

“Potato skins are coming next.”

Rae looked past him, her eyes narrowing and her attention locking in on something for several seconds, and then she relaxed and looked back at her task.

Nathan glanced around but saw no one out of place in the crowd. Saturday nights at Sir Arthur’s stayed pretty packed and tonight was no exception. He was beginning to suspect she had worked undercover so long she didn’t know how to turn off the caution when she was in a crowd.

He wanted to tell her all was fine, but she didn’t know him well enough to take his word for it.

She rolled the cue ball to him. “Your break.”

He obliged and placed the cue ball. Hefting the pool stick in his hand to the balance point, he braced his fingers on the cloth. He struck the cue ball and pocketed a solid and a stripe on the break. “Solids.” He set out to do his best to run the table.

Rae leaned against a post and watched him, slowly eating a handful of pretzels. “Do you ever miss?”

“Not if I can help it.”

He pocketed the six ball. Most cops eventually brought the conversation around to talk about work, for it was a common language with another cop. Rae never brought up the subject. He’d been probing all evening.

He’d known Bruce for over a year before he learned he’d spent most of his career working undercover focusing on the wholesale drug dealers working out of the south side of Chicago. It looked like Rae was going to be equally hard to crack. “Did you chase counterfeiters?”

“That would be Secret Service, not the bureau.”

“Bank robbers?”

“That fun was reserved for agents more senior than I.”

He was running out of suggestions. “I bet you weren’t giving out parking tickets.”

She picked up one of his onion rings. “I was probably watching one of you give them out.”

“You’ve done a lot of stakeouts?”

“It helps if you bring gum that keeps its flavor.” She stepped forward as he missed the seven ball and set out to run the table in reply. When she missed the twelve ball, she set aside her pool stick and drank her refilled tea, then absently rubbed her right arm as she watched him try again to pocket the seven ball.

“What happened?”

“What?”

He didn’t like the look of that scar. “Your arm. That cut looks defensive.”

She looked down at where she was rubbing. “Blocking a knife does that. It itches like crazy.”

A knife . . . it was a wonder she had use of that hand if the blade had hit as it appeared, striking deep into the muscle of her arm. “You should talk to Walter at the pharmacy; he could patent the cream he has for sunburns. He probably has something that will deal with an intense itch.”

“I may do that.”

“What happened that led to the knife fight?”

She finished her tea and picked up her pool stick. “A friend got upset. I’d rather not talk about it, Nathan.”

“Fair enough, but answer a question first. Is he likely to show up here in Justice and cause problems?”

She took so long to answer he wondered if she would. “He’s dead.”

Nathan accepted reality. Her expression had closed; the urgent questions he now had would not be getting answered. He raised a hand and caught the waitress’s attention, signaled for two more refills for their tea. “You’re up two to one; let’s see if I can even out the score with the next game.”

Ben came back through the crowd carrying a large plate, and Rae shook off the sadness to smile at the young man, causing Ben to blush just a bit. “Just what did he order?”

“Jumbos,” Ben mumbled.

“I can tell.”

“I haven’t had dinner yet,” Nathan added mildly.

“Now you have.”

* * *

Nathan held open the door at Sir Arthur’s for Rae, aware it was past midnight and he was pleasantly tired. He’d forgotten the strike, let go the urgency of the budget crisis, let dinner be hors d’oeuvre eaten between turns with the pool cue. He hadn’t had such a relaxing night in weeks. “I’m surprised Bruce didn’t join us tonight.”

“If he’s smart, Bruce is probably soaking his sore ribs,” Rae replied, shifting her book to under her arm so she could tug on her gloves. “I enjoyed tonight.”

“So did I. Let me give you a lift back to the hotel.”

“There’s no need. I haven’t been surprised by trouble during a walk at night in years.”

“It’s still my town.” Nathan tugged on his own gloves, content to walk with her.

“Are your nights often like this? A steady stream of people with requests and information they think you should know?”

Nathan looked over at her, curious as to what she had noticed. “Were there that many requests?”

“A cow that keeps getting out is police business?”

“The cow is a few hundred pounds of stubbornness and it belongs to my mom, Linda Justice. We fix the fencing; the animal just leans against a post of her choice until the fence goes down again. If the strike hadn’t interrupted my plans, I would have been replacing a few posts this weekend.”

“Okay, I buy the cow is a special case. The lady with the cracked dining-room window?”

“One of my Sunday school boys caused it. So tomorrow I’ll be arranging an apology from him and an agreement that will satisfy Mrs. Remstein regarding her window.”

“The missing petty cash at the library?”

“I see your point. I do hang out somewhere easy to find on weekend nights so people can tell me what is going on. So yes, this night is typical. It’s part of being elected sheriff. They vote for you; you work for them.”

“I think it’s nice.”

Her quiet words of praise made him smile. He did try hard to be accessible to folks in town and it wasn’t often people noticed, for it was just expected now. “Thanks. And just FYI—if you ever need to pass on news, don’t wait for a weekend. Pick up the phone.”

Rae laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They walked to the hotel, a comfortable silence between them. They crossed the last strip of grass and stepped into the hotel parking lot.

“The strike has me working some odd shifts, but if you have a free evening this week that works out, I’d like a rematch at the pool table,” Nathan offered.

“I’d like that too.” She dug out her hotel-room key. “I appreciate your time tonight, Nathan. It was a nice welcome.”

“Anytime, Rae. Sleep well.”

* * *

Rae dropped her book and room key on the dresser beside her things, comfortably tired. Sleep would come now.

Nathan was good company. He was going to be asking more questions about her past than she was comfortable with, but there was no way to avoid them. She just had to resolve how much she wanted to say about those days.

The message light on her phone was blinking. Rae dialed the front desk for the message. A fax had arrived for her. “I’ll be down in a moment.”

She picked up her room key and went downstairs again.

The cover page of the fax was from her former boss. Knowing it was being sent by a public fax, he’d kept the note general. They had found a bank safe-deposit box belonging to Mark Rivers. There were several pictures of her with him. Would she contact him at her earliest convenience? They could either be destroyed or sent on to her.

That Mark had kept photos didn’t surprise or concern her; that he’d thought them important enough to put into a bank safe box did. She’d have to think about this before she answered. Rae returned to her room and added the fax to her briefcase to follow up on Monday.

* * *

What was she going to wear to church in the morning? She shifted hangers, looking for something pretty and yet simple. Her attendance at her local church in Washington, D.C., had been sporadic due to the undercover assignment. She was determined to change that now.

This last year had rocked so much of what she thought about God. She had to start rebuilding that relationship somewhere. She would start with finding a new church home.

Nathan had mentioned he taught Sunday school, but she hadn’t thought to ask which church he attended. She hoped Bruce had begun attending church, but she wasn’t going to call at this hour of the night to ask.

She found the phone book. The town had four churches with yellow page ads. All the ads welcomed families, mentioned free coffee and said services started at eight, with First Catholic also saying ten. It was a town that liked to get up early.

No matter which church she chose, she’d have to endure standing out as a stranger, for she doubted there would be more than a handful of visitors. She studied the directions for the Justice Christian Church and then closed the phone book. It wasn’t going to be an easy morning, but it was necessary.

Rae set her alarm clock for six-thirty. A knock on the door interrupted her.

It was late for a visitor. She peered through the security hole, saw the manager who had checked her in that afternoon standing in the hall, and opened the door. “Yes?”

“Ms. Gabriella, I apologize for the hour. I was asked if we would deliver these when you returned, no matter what the hour.” A clerk joined him carrying a huge bouquet of roses.

“Oh, my.” She pushed open the door and took the vase, counting more than two dozen roses. “Please, give me a moment to get my purse. I appreciate the trouble you both took.” She thanked them both generously.

Rae closed the door with her foot and carried the vase of roses over to the dresser. They were absolutely gorgeous against a sea of green. Perfect deep red roses in the winter—someone had gone to a lot of trouble. She pulled out the card, suspecting Bruce was following his own plan for how to welcome her to Justice. She opened the envelope.
Welcome to Justice, Rae. Nathan.

She blinked. Nathan.

She smiled. He’d just spent much more on the roses than she would on the speeding ticket. She read the card again and slid it back in the bouquet of roses. It had been a long time since someone sent her roses. She drew one of the roses toward her. A nice welcome message, as well as being a spot of beauty in the winter. She’d remember them to his favor.

6

Cars crowded the parking lot of the Justice Christian Church and people had begun parking on the side streets. It had snowed overnight. Rae didn’t want to be walking far in these shoes. She found a parking place behind a red Toyota on a side street within sight of the church building and picked up her Bible and her purse.

She joined others walking toward the building, aware her nerves were stretched tight this morning.

How much did she want to say when someone said hello and struck up a conversation? She wanted to make a good impression and the truth had so many layers to the full story.

Did she want to talk about D.C. and the FBI or simply focus on the fact that she was new to town and would be working with Bruce? How much did she want to say about her history with Bruce and how she knew him? She’d be most comfortable hiding behind the safety her connection to Bruce provided her, and the fact that they were good friends. She wasn’t above using his relationships with folks in town to smooth her own introductions into the community. Her life would be so much easier right now if she had chosen to be a homemaker rather than a cop.

She slowed. Nathan was across the street, heading away from the church at a fast clip. She watched him tug off one glove and pull out keys from his pocket. Headlights flashed on a Mercury Sable. Rae remembered him mentioning he had a Sunday school class to teach, yet he was leaving in a hurry. Where was he going? As he pulled away from the curb he reached out and put a canister light on the roof. Police business.

She stopped. She wavered on the decision and then turned around. She walked back to her car and got in, set her Bible and purse on the passenger seat, and started her car.

She didn’t plan to spend her next months chasing ambulances or cops, monitoring scanners, or otherwise being a police groupie, but she did have a fine sense of priorities. Something was wrong.