At Hope House, Sidney decided to use her considerable computer skills to look up her pal, Ronan O’Dwyer.
She wasn’t sure why it had never occurred to her before. But then again she’d never needed to find him before either. She had a number to call when she needed his services. When she called, he answered. But after their scare with the fraud detectives, Sidney had deleted his contact info from her cellphone. It had been the smart thing to do.
Only now, it left her with no number to call and no way to get in touch with him.
So she turned to the computer.
It didn’t take her much time to discover that Ronan owned a pawn shop in the Central neighborhood, just south from the heart of downtown.
A drop of fear made ripples in Sidney’s belly.
That was not a great area of town.
In fact, it was exactly the part of town she had gotten lost in when she witnessed that gangland shooting.
The same shooting that set an evil drug lord out to kill her.
The same shooting that had eventually brought Isaac into her life.
Nausea filled the back of her mouth and slid down her throat.
Sidney took a deep breath and slowly blew it out through her mouth, trying to push the sick feeling aside.
“You can do this, Sid. Things are different now. You’re different now. More confident. Better equipped to take care of yourself.” She mumbled the pep talk out loud and nodded. “You can do this.”
She jotted down the address of the pawn shop and stuffed it into her purse. She could simply call the pawn shop, but she hadn’t spoken to Ronan since the text where she warned him of the coming police bust on document forgers. She knew that he hadn’t been happy to learn that her husband was a cop, so she wasn’t exactly certain that he wouldn’t simply hang up the instant he heard her voice.
No, she had to do this in person.
She checked her purse, making sure that her gun was exactly where it was supposed to be. Then she stood and gathered her things.
She left the office and headed down the hall toward the door.
“Hey, are you going out?”
Zoe’s voice stopped her, and she turned around to face her boss. “Yes. I have an errand to run and then I’m having lunch with a friend.”
Zoe stared at her closely. “Why do you look sheepish, Sidney?”
Sidney expelled a loud sigh. “Okay. I was able to find an address for our potential consultant. Apparently he owns a pawn shop in Central.”
“Central? Oh, my God, you’re not going over there alone are you?”
“It’ll be fine, Zoe. It’s broad daylight for heaven’s sake.”
“Hang on. I’ll go with you.”
“No, you can’t. You have to stay here and wait for the rep from social services, remember?” Her boss had an important meeting that she had to take.
Zoe folded her arms and looked Sidney in the eyes, clearly not happy with the situation. “I don’t like the idea of you going over there alone.”
“Nothing is going to happen in the day time. I promise you I’ll be back before you even know it.” She moved and then turned back. “Well… I’m going to lunch after. But then I’ll be back.”
She turned and left before Zoe could protest anymore. She hurried to her car and then spent a few moments putting the address into the fancy GPS system that Isaac had bought for her.
Isaac.
He would agree with Zoe here. And he would most likely be furious if he knew that she was doing this. He would insist on following her or something.
“I can do this myself.”
She started the car and got underway before she could talk herself out of it.
The truth was that she was beyond nervous. Ever since witnessing that shooting Sidney didn’t do things like this. She didn’t deliberately put herself in danger. Not even potential danger.
That was part of the self-defense training course that Pete Vega taught at the YMCA. One of the first rules of self-defense is to be aware of your surroundings. That meant not purposely putting yourself in a situation that could turn dangerous on a dime.
And here she was breaking that rule.
Pete would be furious with her too.
As she drove and the scenery changed from middle class urban to urban decay, the pup of dread inside her grew into a raging huge wolf of fear. She tried to swallow down the unease, but it kept clawing its way back up her throat.
The GPS took Sidney right to the pawn shop and she pulled over and parked directly out front.
She glanced out the window at her surroundings. A lot of the buildings were vacant and boarded up, making a spectacular canvas for the graffiti splattering everything. But across the street there was a rough-looking garage boasting quick oil changes and lubes, and a car audio place next to that.
She took the gun out of her purse and slipped it into the deep pocket of her camel-colored, wide-leg slacks. She did the same with her cellphone in the other pocket. Then she tucked the purse underneath the driver’s seat. She couldn’t risk her purse getting snatched in an area like this. Not with her wallet inside it.
Another second to gather her thoughts and her courage and she got out of the car and locked it behind her. Fear lurked in every corner of her body — creeping around her brain, zapping her heart and coursing throughout her veins.
She scanned her surroundings, staying aware of who was nearby at all times, the way she’d learned in that self-defense course.
She stuffed her hands in her pockets, keeping in close contact with her gun. Then she walked to the door of the pawn shop and stepped inside.
The cheerful bell that announced her arrival was at great odds with the musty smell of mold and desperation that smacked her in the face. The sounds of an old western wafted out from a room beyond the counter, and everywhere Sidney looked she saw stuff.
The place was jam-packed with stuff and arranged in the most random fashion. Apparently people pawned everything, from small household appliances and power tools to musical instruments and vintage toys still in the original packaging. And from the looks of it all, dusting the merchandise wasn’t high on Ronan’s list of things to do. Just the sight of it made her want to sneeze.
“And how do I know this is real silver, laddie?”
Ronan’s Irish brogue was thick as ever. He stood behind the counter speaking to a customer who was trying to pawn what looked like a set of silver flatware. He looked up when the door closed and stared right at her.
Sidney caught the look of mild shock that registered on his face.
He didn’t verbally acknowledge her. In fact, he didn’t acknowledge her at all. He simply turned back to his customer.
“Did ya steal this flatware? Because I don’t take hot merchandise.”
“No, of course not! I inherited it from my grandmother.”
Sidney meandered around the shop, patiently waiting for Ronan’s business transaction to come to a close. And also letting him know that she wasn’t leaving until she talked to him.
They hadn’t spoken since she warned him of the looming forgery bust, and she wondered now if he was truly upset with her. She knew from Isaac that several area forgers had gotten taken down by that bust. But Ronan was still walking around free, so she assumed he’d heeded her warning. If that was the case, why did he seem to have a beef with her?
She wandered around looking at all manner of things — stacks of old vinyl records, a drum set, laptops and old DVD players, lawn mowers and signed sports memorabilia. She had never seen such a mismatched, hodgepodge of things.
“All right, lad. Here’s yer ticket and yer $150. I’ll hold it for two weeks. If ya don’t claim it by then I will set it out to be sold.”
“Thanks, Ronan.”
“Aye.”
The guy stuffed the money into his pocket and left quickly. Like he was getting out of Dodge before Ronan could change his mind.
As the guy ran out, Sidney finally made her way up to the front of the shop where the jewelry lived in a long glass case. She bent over the counter looking at the pieces, genuinely shocked at the gorgeous items on display.
“Wow. I had no idea that people pawned such lovely things.”
“Ya’d be surprised what people will part with when they’re strapped fer cash.”
“I guess,” Sidney replied, still eyeing the baubles. “You know, I bet some of these vintage pieces were probably priceless family heirlooms.”
“What are ya doing here, Sid?”
His tone said he didn’t have time for small talk today. Or maybe he just didn’t want to make small talk with her.
Sidney straightened up and looked him in the eyes. “Well, you’re not behind bars so I assume you took my warning to heart?”
Ronan nodded once. “Ah, and you think I owe ya something fer that, do ya?”
Sidney frowned at the accusatory tone in his voice. “You don’t owe me anything. I did what I did because you had already helped me tremendously.”
That comment seemed to settle Ronan’s hackles some. He stared at her as though he was attempting to figure her out.
“So let me say again… what are ya doing here, Sid?”
“I came because I have problem. One that I can’t seem to find a solution for on my own. And I was hoping you might have some clever suggestions for me.”
Ronan laughed out loud. An unkind sound that seemed to say boy-you’ve-really-got-a-lot-of-nerve-lady. “Is this some sort of set up?”
He sounded angry.
Sidney was confused. “A set up?”
“Why are ya really here? Ya’ve never come to me shop before. What do ya want? If ya’ve got a problem why don’t ya ask yer copper husband?”
Sidney was shocked by the raised voice and the level of suspicion in it.
“Or is he here maybe? Outside in a van, listening to this conversation?” Ronan continued.
“What? No! Ronan, this is not a set up of any kind, and my husband is not out to trap you.”
“Oh, really?”
“No. How do you think I got your information in the first place?” Now Sidney’s voice was raised to match his. She took a breath and tried to calm down. “Isaac, my husband… he knew what my intentions were and what I was going to need to pull it off. He pointed me in your direction because he said you did believable work.”
She could tell that statement took Ronan aback. He stared at her as if trying to dissect the truth from her words.
“Neither one of us wanted you to get jammed up for helping me,” Sidney continued. “And we certainly didn’t want to get jammed up for it either. Why do you think I warned you?”
Ronan continued to stare at her, and she could almost see his mind working, sorting through the information. Finally the deep crease in his brow softened out and he sighed.
“This is against me better judgement, lass, but what’s yer problem?”
Relieved to have cleared the air, Sidney spelled it out for him. All about how close they had come to it all blowing back on them and how she had promised Ike that there would be no more illegal activity from her or Hope House.
“Hope House? That women’s shelter in town?”
“Yes. That’s who I work for.”
“Aye.” Ronan nodded as if all the puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place.
“So now, we have to figure out how to continue to help these women disappear and start new lives without me or my boss purchasing false documents for them. Zoe… that’s my boss. She and I keep brainstorming, but we keep hitting a wall.”
Ronan sat down on a stool behind the counter. His eyes drifted around his shop, but Sidney could see that he was thinking.
“We’re prepared to pay you for your time.”
That brought his gaze zipping back to her. “Ya want to pay me?”
“Yes.”
“Fer what?”
Sidney shrugged a shoulder. “To pick your brain, I suppose. Think of it as a consulting position. Like former art thieves who help museums beef up their security.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “So you’ll pay me to come up with a way to help ya help these women disappear without the purchase of false documents?”
“Without false documents being supplied by me or anyone at Hope House.”
“Well, that’s easy, lass. Send them here.”
Sidney shook her head. “No. That won’t work. The fraud detectives are already aware of our association.” She fanned a hand back and forth between them. “All that would do is make us both look guiltier.”
Ronan nodded. “All right. I’ll give yer problem some thought. But I don’t think ya should come back here again. I don’t want yer copper husband all over me if ya should get hurt down here. We’ll find some other place to do business.”
“Agreed.” Sidney smiled at him. “Thank you, Ronan.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Sid the Social Worker.” He came around the counter. “Come. I’ll walk ya back to yer car.”
“Careful there. I might start to mistake you for one of the good guys.”
Ronan chuckled, and this time it was genuine. “Now that would be a neat trick.”
Not only did he walk her to her car, but he actually stood there and waited for her to get in and drive safely away. Sidney smiled to herself as she followed the GPS directions. He could deny it all he wanted, but she suspected Ronan O’Dwyer was indeed one of the good guys. He only pretended not to be for his reputation or whatever.
She was sure of it.
She breathed a silent sigh of relief when she was finally out of that neighborhood and back in a part of town she easily recognized. Then she headed off to lunch.
The cafe was in the Ohio City neighborhood, very near to her and Ike’s home. In fact, it was one of her favorites. A place she and Jada used to walk to for a quick fruit smoothie or a cup of tea back before she and Charlie had moved in with Pete and his family.
She parked the car and went inside, the smell of the fresh ingredients making her stomach grumble. She was pleased to see Jada already there seated at a table by the window.
“Jada, hey,” she said as she approached. She hugged her friend tight. “Thanks for meeting me for lunch.”
“Thanks for asking,” Jada said with a warm smile.
But as Sidney took a seat across from her the smile seemed somewhat forced. She was about to ask her friend some tough questions, but the waitress swooped in.
“Are we ready to order here, ladies?”
Knowing the menu by heart, and suddenly starving, Sidney smiled at the waitress. “I’ll have a large apple cherry smoothie and a chicken salad sandwich.”
“Bowl of the vegetable soup for me and a small peach berry smoothie, please.” Jada handed over the menu.
“Coming right up.”
The waitress walked away and Sidney looked Jada over. She was pale, and her eyes were red and puffy, no doubt from crying for the last twenty-four hours. She was wearing yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt with the CPD emblem on the chest area, and Sidney surmised that it must belong to Pete. Her hair, normally silky and shiny and perfect, was lifeless and dull, pulled up into a messy bun. Jada ran a hand through it and sighed, trying to smile.
“I know this might be a silly question, but how are you doing?” Sidney studied her.
Jada shrugged a shoulder, but her face told the story she was trying to hide. Relief, stress, sadness, doubt, fear. The emotions flickered over her face so quickly they would’ve been undetectable to someone not paying attention.
But Sidney was.
“Jada, you know that you can talk to me about this, don’t you?”
Jada’s gaze met hers.
And then the tears fell.
Silently.
Jada wiped them away and pulled a tissue from a pocket. “I’m sorry, Sidney. I’ve been an absolute mess ever since Ike first called me yesterday. And I know that Pete is okay, and that he’s going to make a full recovery. But the fear is so hard to let go of. It is a real living, breathing thing, like a lion on a rampage. And when it gets a hold of you…”
Her voice trailed off, and Sidney could see the turmoil play out across Jada’s pretty face. Her friend was in so much pain.
She sat dabbing at her eyes with the tissues, and Sidney tried to gather her thoughts. What could she say to help?
The waitress delivered their lunch and smoothies to the table, and Sidney thanked her while Jada continued to wipe her eyes.
When they were alone again, Sidney took a deep breath.
“Jada I can’t pretend to understand what you must have gone through when Carlos died. Especially knowing the way he died. In the middle of a dangerous mission, in service to his country.”
Jada wiped a few more tears and nodded, saying nothing.
“Something like that is bound to be hard for the ones left behind. On the one hand, you know that your loved one died a hero, and that makes you proud. But on the other, your loved one is gone. And believe me, I do see the similarities. But you have to know that an Army Ranger’s job is inherently more dangerous than a cop’s job, right?”
Jada’s gaze flew to Sidney’s. “What difference does that make? They’re both dangerous jobs. Both life or death. Both completely unpredictable!”
“Yes, that’s true. But they are different. And Pete is not Carlos.”
“I know that.” Jada’s tears were flowing freely now.
“Okay. But honey, you also have to know this. At some point, you are going to have to set what happened to Carlos aside and move on. Truly move on.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Sidney. You’ve never lost a husband to combat. To violence.”
“No, I haven’t.” Sidney shook her head. “And I never met Carlos either. But I feel certain in saying that Carlos wouldn’t want you to remain stuck in the trauma you suffered when he died.”
Those words brought Jada up short. Sidney could tell.
“If Carlos loved you half as much as you loved him, he would want you to move on from that trauma so that you can fully embrace loving Pete without fear. So that you can marry Pete and give Charlie the living, loving father he deserves. And the big brother that he longs for.”
The hint of a smile tipped up the corner of Jada’s lips. But it was quickly replaced with fresh tears. “I know you’re right, Sidney. But I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to let go of loving Carlos.”
She broke down into soft sobs, and Sidney noticed a couple at a nearby table shooting concerned glances their way.
“Jada, listen to me.” Sidney reached across the table and took Jada’s hand. “Sometimes, letting go is hard for some people because they think it means letting go of the love. But that’s not true. The love is in your heart, so it will always be there, giving you strength to draw from whenever you need it. Letting go doesn’t mean leaving that love behind. It simply means making space in your heart for new love.”
Sidney could see the moment Jada connected with that notion. It was like the idea lit a spark behind her eyes.
“Making space for new love.” Jada repeated it softly, like a mantra.
“Yep.” Sidney took a sip of her smoothie.
Jada repeated the words to herself again. Then she dried her face and picked up her spoon.