It wasn’t enough.
Trent knew himself well enough to realize that if he let go and threw himself into helping Elise find Ashley, the thrill of the hunt would come roaring back to him. He’d get hooked again and be back where he was two years ago, mourning a friend and a career.
He wasn’t sure he could walk away from doing what he loved twice.
He’d told Elise he’d help, and he would, but he had to be careful about how much help he allowed himself to give. He had to be careful to remember that this was only temporary. Not his real life. His real life was back in Haven, not here in Chicago, where memories of his mistakes were everywhere. He could give her advice, but that was all. He couldn’t go out looking for Ashley with her. He couldn’t go to bars, asking questions and finding leads.
What if he ran into John?
Just the thought was enough to make Trent scan his surroundings, like his old partner was going to jump out and surprise him.
John didn’t jump anymore. He couldn’t run, couldn’t walk. He couldn’t even stand. Trent had taken all of that away from him.
He’d taken even more away from Regina Craft. He’d taken her son.
Trent squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drive away the memories of that night.
So much blood. It had spread out over the cracked alley, making the pavement gleam under the yellow streetlight nearby. The smell of garbage mixed with the metallic tang of death had filled his nose, choking him almost as much as his panic.
He’d managed to stem the flow of blood from John’s back, but there hadn’t been a thing he could do for Tyler Craft. He was already dead.
Trent sucked in a breath, filling his lungs with fresh air. He wasn’t in that alley. He couldn’t go there now, not while Elise needed him to stay solid and help her get through this. He wasn’t going to be any good to anyone if he started taking a trip down memory lane. That road led only to helpless rage and debilitating grief.
Trent shoved his personal hell aside long enough to find something for them to eat. He figured breakfast was going to be easiest on her iffy stomach, so he found a nearby diner that served it all day and night.
When he got back to the room, her hair was wet from a shower. She wore the same clothes she’d had on before, because neither of them had thought about bringing an overnight bag. He’d intended to drive back home tonight until he’d seen how unstable she’d been after viewing the body.
Elise sat on one of the beds. The TV was on, but the sound was so low Trent couldn’t hear any of the dialogue.
When she looked at him, she seemed clearer—more like herself.
“Good shower?” he asked, more to engage her in conversation than anything else.
“Uh, yeah. I’m warmer now.”
“Good.” He set the food down on a small round table in front of the window. “I got pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Want some?”
She didn’t answer, but she came and sat down in front of one of the divided Styrofoam containers. Trent handed her a pack of syrup and took the lid off her orange juice.
She looked fragile and uncertain, staring at her food like she didn’t remember what to do next.
Trent opened the plastic pack of utensils and fixed her pancakes the way he ate his. He wasn’t sure if she was one of those women who never touched butter, but she didn’t stop him from spreading it on, or drenching them in syrup.
He handed her the fork, and she looked up at him, blinking. “Do you think Ashley’s hungry right now?”
Oh, God. He couldn’t let her go down that path. He’d seen how badly that could end. “No. I think she’s asleep. Safe.” He didn’t even care that it was probably a lie. He’d keep on lying to her if that’s what it took to keep her grounded. “She’d want you to eat and take care of yourself.”
Elise gave him a distracted nod, but she started eating, staring off into space. Thinking.
Trent needed to distract her and keep her mind from heading into dark places. “Tell me about you and Ashley. Where did you grow up?”
She answered automatically, without pausing. “Wisconsin, mostly.”
“What about your parents? Are they still there?”
She shook her head, and a damp curl stuck to her cheek. “Dad divorced Mom right after Ashley was born, and found a family he liked better.”
“Ouch. That had to suck.”
“At first. We got used to it. Mom married again a couple of times. Divorced again a couple of times.”
“You make that sound like something everyone does.”
Elise shrugged. “Look around. Seems pretty normal to me. How many times have your parents been married?”
“Once. To each other.”
“Huh. I didn’t think that happened anymore.”
And she thought
he
was cynical. Rather than debating a touchy topic, Trent steered her back toward safer ground. “What did your mom do?”
“Office work during the day, waited tables at night.”
“Who took care of you kids?”
She gave him a confused frown. “I took care of Ashley.”
Which left no one to take care of Elise. Suddenly, her desperate need to do whatever it took to find Ashley started to make more sense. Elise felt responsible for Ashley because she’d grown up being responsible for her.
“Were you two always close?” he asked.
She ate a bite of bacon, grimaced, and went back to her pancakes. “Yeah. Right up until I graduated. Mom wanted me to skip college and stay home with Ashley. She’d just started high school and everything was a drama.”
“Sounds pretty standard for that age.”
“No. Not like this. She didn’t cope well with Mom’s last divorce. She went wild. We had to watch her constantly, or she’d run off with some guy—usually a much older guy. It’s a wonder she didn’t end up pregnant by the time she was fifteen. At least that’s what Mom always said. She was a big fan of the Lecture.”
Trent remembered getting a few of those himself, though he doubted they were the same as the ones Elise got. “What was the Lecture?”
“It started differently, but always ended the same way. If we went to a movie with a guy, or hung out at the mall or went miniature golfing, we were going to end up raped, pregnant, full of STDs, and dead in a ditch by sunrise.”
“Wow. I had no idea miniature golfing was so dangerous.”
She smiled a little and it made his heart lift to have been able to make it happen. “Needless to say, I didn’t date a lot. Or at all. At least not until college.”
“Were you the kid who sat in her room studying all the time because you were too afraid to come out, or were you the one getting wasted at parties because it was the first time you’d been able to spread your wings?”
“Neither. I lived at home, but there were a couple of really hot study groups I belonged to. The fact that there were guys there made it as close to a real date as I’d ever gotten.”
“So, how did you get from there to spending the night in a cheap motel room with a man you hardly know?”
“Mom died a few years ago.”
“Ouch. Now I feel like an ass for trying to make a joke.”
“Don’t. I loved Mom, but she’d been sick for a long time and said she was ready for a rest. She said death was the only way she was ever going to be able to stop working so hard.”
“I can’t imagine life without my parents. Good thing they’re still young. They had me when Mom was eighteen. Dad just turned fifty last month.”
Elise sipped her juice. “Eighteen? That is young. I was still a virgin at eighteen.”
“The last of a dying breed.”
“I suppose.”
“So you’re on your own now, living by your own rules,” he said, to get her to keep talking. She’d finished off half her meal, and as he’d hoped, the distraction was helping her get it down.
She nodded. “I get to see the world now, which I always wanted to do.”
“You’re a reporter?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Freelance. I mostly cover dry economic stuff, but I want to branch out more into other areas. I’d love to shed some light on parts of the world that are bleaker than ours—get people to think about how they can help others, maybe help them be grateful for what they have.”
“That’s no small feat.”
“I’d only be contributing a drop in the bucket, but at least there’d be one more drop.”
Trent got that. He knew that as a cop he couldn’t stop every crime, or help every person in need, but he could do something. It wasn’t much, but it was a lot to the people whose lives he touched.
That was the part about being a cop he missed most—knowing he’d made a difference.
She set her fork down and leaned away from the food.
“Full?” he asked.
“Yeah. But I think I might be able to sleep now.”
“Go ahead. I’ll take care of cleaning this up.”
She stood and put her hand on his shoulder. Her gray-green eyes were shadowed with fatigue and red from crying, but she seemed aware of her surroundings now. It was a big step in the right direction.
“Thank you, Trent. I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.”
His throat closed up, clogging with a rush of emotion. He’d helped someone with something important. He’d helped a sweet woman get through one of the most horrific moments of her life. That gratitude shining in her face made him feel like a hero. Made him feel useful again.
Something inside him that had long been dead came rushing back to life. He wasn’t useless. He still had something to offer. Maybe it wasn’t much, but it was something.
He nodded, unable to speak. Elise didn’t seem to notice his awkward emotional state. She crossed the room, got into bed, and slid her bare feet under the covers. She rolled over, putting her back to him, and he was grateful for the privacy.
Trent wasn’t sure how he was going to handle going back to that desolate uselessness his life had become, but he knew he had to find a way. Pretty soon, they’d find Ashley. Or they wouldn’t. But in the end, it would be the same. Elise would get back to her life of traveling the world and making a difference, and he’d go back to his life of… not.
Maybe he should go back to being a cop. It was the only thing he’d ever truly loved doing. It was part of him.
But what if he had to face down another armed kid? Would he hesitate again? He’d barely lived through the guilt the first time, and John had survived. What if next time, his hesitation got his partner killed?
He’d never be able to live with himself if that happened. He’d end up eating a bullet. His family would suffer. His parents would be devastated. His brother would find a way to make himself believe it was somehow his fault. Sam was good at absorbing blame, which was why he’d spent half his childhood grounded.
No, it was too much of a risk. It was best if he left well enough alone. He was getting along fine. Sure, he wasn’t bubbling over with happiness, but he didn’t deserve that. John sure as hell wasn’t doing any bubbling. Neither was Tyler Craft’s mother.
He’d do what he could to help Elise and let it end there. This would be his last hoorah, so he was determined to make the most of it.
Gary peered through his binoculars and watched Gloria move. She was graceful. Beautiful.
Alone.
A thrill raced along his limbs, making his hands shake. He pulled in a deep breath to steady his nerves so he could continue to watch his sweet dancer. Getting up this early had its downside, but the fatigue was worth it. He didn’t want to miss a minute of his early bird’s workout.
Watching her dance only proved how perfect for him she really was. There was something special about artistic women, something that drew him to them. He’d sensed it in Gloria the moment he’d met her.
His instincts were never wrong.
Gloria had finished stretching and began to dance, bouncing and jiggling for his enjoyment. He especially liked the part of her routine where her hands were in the air, waving around where he could see them clearly.
She had such pretty hands.
He unzipped his trousers and gripped his erection.
There was no way for her to know he watched, but he had always thought that women in his life were connected to him from the very beginning. There was a link running between them that tied them together. Pretty soon, she’d feel it. She’d start looking over her shoulder for him, the way the others had.
The last one hadn’t been perfect as he’d hoped, but it wasn’t her fault. He forgave her, as he always did. Perfection was rare, and Gary had to be patient.
Even though his latest find was beautiful and graceful, she still had a long way to go to prove herself to him, to prove she was worthy to become a part of his beloved Wendy.
Patience.
It wasn’t time to take her yet. He still had to clean the traces of the last woman from the guest room to make space for her.
Gary had found over the years that there was always room for one more.
E
lise woke up from a series of bloody dreams starring her terrified sister. She was sweating and shaking. There was blood under her fingernails from where she’d dug them into her palms while she slept. Her knuckles ached from being clenched into tight fists.