Watching Derek and Tom bend over a book thrilled Marta. Their first lesson, and already she could tell the boy was responding.
That Saturday morning, Derek had arrived at the homework center frowning, but the tension had evaporated as he immersed himself in the moment. He seemed to find this place as much of a refuge as the children did. He’d changed since their night together. Grown kinder and more open, in her opinion, and more sensitive to others.
Elise, however, chewed one fingernail distractedly while assisting a little girl with the alphabet. As soon as they completed their session, she hurried over to Marta.
“I could use an unbiased opinion,” the patrolwoman admitted. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” Having completed her own tutoring session, Marta had hoped to catch a few words with Derek, but across the auditorium he remained absorbed in conversation with Tom.
Since Elise requested privacy, they slipped out the back door. Across the alley lay tidy rear yards leading to small houses. Even in what might have been the dead of winter elsewhere, flowers edged the yards. The calla lilies and bird-of-paradise plants were striking.
“It’s Mike.” The policewoman inhaled deeply. “We had a fight.”
“That was bound to happen,” Marta muttered without thinking.
A stunned gaze met hers. “Why?”
“Because everything’s been so darn perfect.” She eased down onto the concrete steps, while her friend remained standing. “No relationship goes that easily.”
“I wish I’d known!” Elise’s kick sent a loose stone skittering across the cracked blacktop. “I cried all night.”
Marta regretted her insensitive remark. “I’m sorry. What did you argue about?”
“Moving in together.” The blonde woman paused as a teenager whizzed by on a bicycle. She waited until they were alone again. “I suggested we rent a place together. He says he’s not ready.”
“You’ve been dating for less than two months,” Marta pointed out.
“Having someone around who listens and understands—it’s heavenly.” Elise leaned against the building with a thump. “I assumed he was happy, too.”
“Maybe he is, but not full-time. It can be draining to serve as someone else’s sounding post.” Marta spoke from experience. She’d had a few coworkers who exhausted her with their endless need for a sympathetic ear. “Plus, Mike fulfills the same function at work.”
“That hadn’t occurred to me,” Elise responded slowly. “Should I stop confiding in him?”
“Not necessarily.” Marta hadn’t meant to imply that. “What does he get out of this arrangement? You should figure out how to meet his needs.”
“I don’t think he has any.” A pucker formed between Elise’s brows. “He’s so together. Or maybe I’m not smart enough to figure him out.”
“You don’t have to be psychic,” Marta assured her. “Just ask him what would make him happy. Then really listen to the answer.”
Her friend groaned. “I’ve been selfish, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that. Surely you’ve explored his past and his feelings at least a little.” She thought of Derek. Despite his reserved manner, he’d found out quite a bit about her, she realized.
“Mostly we discuss my issues,” Elise conceded. “He makes all the arrangements, too. I’m going to insist on cooking dinner tonight instead of relying on him, and I’ll encourage him to talk for a change.”
“Don’t rush it.” For an adult, her friend lacked experience with men. Not that Marta had such a great track record herself. She supposed she’d benefited from watching Connie and Rachel struggle with their romantic problems. “Give him space. What’s your hurry?”
“I’m afraid I’ll lose him,” Elise confessed. “Instead, I’m probably driving him off. Okay, slow and steady. Speaking of being selfish, I meant to wish you well with the pregnancy instead of rattling on about myself.”
“Thanks.” Marta answered a few questions and then said goodbye. Judging by Elise’s swinging stride as she cut around the building to the parking lot, she was eager to implement her new plan with Mike.
Perched on the rear steps, Marta watched a couple of children play on a slide in one of the yards. She guessed their ages at about three and five. What would her babies look like as preschoolers?
The door opened behind her. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a tall, muscular figure in jeans and a black jersey.
Derek sat beside her. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” She rested her cheek on his shoulder. His strong arm slid around her.
“You smell wonderful,” he murmured. “A little different from usual, but nice.”
“That’s our new cucumber-mint shampoo,” Marta replied. “Like it?”
He chuckled. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to accept a compliment?”
“I must have missed that lesson. I guess the appropriate reply is thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
They sat for a couple of minutes, enjoying each other’s company and the season-defying blooms across the alley. A poinsettia tree, probably a Christmas gift stuck into the ground years ago, splayed red blossoms beside a door, and a pink rosebush offered its last, brave flowers to the cool air.
“I have an idea I need to discuss and you’re the only person I trust,” Derek said abruptly.
Honored, Marta rested her arms on her knees. “Shoot.”
“You can’t mention this to a soul,” he warned.
“Scout’s honor.”
In a low voice, he said, “The chief plans to resign on Monday and I have to find a way to stop him.”
Marta didn’t ask for background, because she’d seen the latest article in the Voice. She also understood Derek’s loyalty to Will Lyons. “Any ideas how to accomplish that?”
“I plan to smoke out the person who’s tipping off Tracy.” He stretched his legs. “Finding the worm in the apple won’t undo the damage, but I’m hoping it’ll persuade the chief to reconsider.”
“Did he explain his reasons?”
“He blames himself for embarrassing the city, plus he’s trying to protect what’s left of his relationship with Ben.”
Marta felt obligated to raise an awkward point. “Any possibility Ben’s the source?”
Derek dismissed the notion. “The kid was horrified when Tracy showed up on Monday. And I don’t peg him as a sneak. In fact, I have to bring him into the plan for it to work.”
“What plan?” This ought to be interesting.
“I’ve decided to spread different rumors, one per possible leaker,” he said. “If I hit my target, he’ll call Tracy. Since Monday’s her deadline, she’ll phone me immediately to confirm.”
“And you can tell who blabbed depending on which story she repeats.” What an inspired scheme! “Have you selected your suspects?”
“Not entirely. I’d better do this right, because if I omit the culprit, the whole thing will fizzle.” Derek rotated his shoulder as if to relieve a cramp. “The chief plans to inform the press on Tuesday. I won’t get a second chance.”
One candidate seemed obvious. “I’m guessing Vince is on your list.”
“Yep. But to be credible, the story will have to come from Ben, not me.”
“I’m not sure he’ll cooperate.” The young man had been steadfastly loyal to the ex-chief.
“He might if I explain it correctly.” Derek didn’t elaborate.
“Who else made your list?”
“Our traffic lieutenant, Justin Lindeman. He’s an old buddy of Vince’s, and his daughter volunteers here.” He explained his theory that someone had slipped the plastic bag into the chief’s car at Villa Corazon.
Skepticism colored her reaction. “You can’t believe Ginger would do that!”
“I don’t exactly, but she had the opportunity. Now, who did I omit?” Derek probed.
They discussed names and, after rejecting several, reluctantly decided on Joel. Although neither believed him to have intentionally betrayed his fellow officers, Tracy might have succeeded in teasing information out of him.
Derek had decided against involving any more of Vince’s allies in case some of them compared notes and detected the scheme. Also, he explained, “Dreaming up three rumors poses enough of a challenge.”
Marta had a few ideas. Between the two of them, they came up with three credible stories.
One more problem occurred to her. “If you’re wrong, eventually these guys will figure out you fed them lies. What then?”
Derek grimaced. “I’ll take full responsibility, no matter what that entails. This is my plan, not the chief’s. If there’s a screw-up, it’s mine, too.”
The implication dismayed Marta. “The department won’t punish you, will it?”
“I’m potentially subjecting my fellow officers to further embarrassment in the press,” he replied. “I can’t even count how many rules I’ll be breaking. The bottom line is, I might have to leave.”
Unthinkable for him to lose his job. “What would you do?” Marta asked.
“Since I can’t manage real police work anymore, there’s no question of applying to another city.” His shoulders sagged. “My parents wanted me to go into accounting. Maybe I’m not too old to start over.”
Crunching numbers might suit someone else, but not Derek. “No matter what happens, stick it out unless they fire you outright,” Marta advised.
“If this blows up, it’ll damage morale,” he replied. “And if I tick off enough people, my ability to perform my job will suffer.”
He sound defeated. “The guys ganged up on Elise, remember? She weathered the storm and so will you.”
Derek mulled over her words for a while. Then he said, “Let’s go out tonight.”
“Talk about dodging the issue!” Marta retorted.
“Yes or no?” he teased.
She nearly shouted her agreement. Then she remembered an insurmountable conflict. “I’m sorry. I promised to babysit for Rachel and Russ.”
“Need help?”
He couldn’t be serious! “I promised to help redecorate Lauren’s dollhouse. Does that appeal to you?” Marta inquired.
“Afraid not.” His mouth twisted ruefully. “Tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date.”
After agreeing on a time, they both rose a bit clumsily from the hard steps. They’d fallen into an easy camaraderie, Marta thought, an extension of the friendship formed at the hospital.
Sadly, she sensed that, once the babies were born, the wrenching process of relinquishment would inflict too much pain for them to continue. All the more reason to treasure this relationship while it lasted.
*
As Derek had anticipated, Ben initially resisted. The two of them talked in the Villa Corazon center parking lot, leaning against the youth’s battered compact.
Despite his promise to Will, Derek saw no alternative but to admit the real story. “Your dad intends to resign rather than keep putting you through the wringer,” he explained. “I’m asking you to help me identify the suspect by clearing the person your father blames—Borrego. When Tracy brings me some other tale, we can be certain she didn’t hear it from Vince.”
Ben’s irate expression boded ill. If he refused to cooperate or, worse, called Tracy with the truth, he could destroy the whole plan.
“I hate lying,” he said.
“Don’t you want to find out who framed you?” Seeking further ammunition, Derek added, “We still don’t know who set fire to your apartment and planted drugs there, as well. People assume that was part of Norm Kinsey’s revenge scenario, but there’s a strong possibility they’re wrong.” Kinsey had denied any knowledge of the fire shortly before dying of a heart attack.
“It certainly wasn’t Vince!” the boy snapped.
“Then help me nail the real culprit.”
Ben blew out an angry breath. “I gotta think about it.”
“Now or never.” Derek pressed home the point. “After this weekend, the guilty party escapes and your dad suffers a loss he doesn’t deserve.”
Unwillingly: “Yeah, okay. What should I say?”
This was the hard part. “Tell him that although you didn’t leave the drugs in your father’s car, he found out that you did smoke a joint at a friend’s house. Now he insists on asking the D.A. to press charges.” Derek braced for an outburst.
He got one. “Absolutely not! I’m clean!” More calmly, Ben appended, “I take regular drug tests at my pizza-delivery job, so I can prove it.”
“Excellent. If he should repeat this nonsense to Tracy, we’ll rebut it.”
“He won’t! And Vince’ll be really disappointed about me supposedly smoking dope.” Slowly, the young man concluded, “I guess he’ll forgive me when I explain why I did this.”
“He ought to appreciate your clearing him.” Derek wouldn’t bet on that, though. He still considered Vince the most likely instigator of the force’s ongoing problems.
Ben lifted his chin. “When should I tell him?”
“No later than tomorrow. And please don’t talk to anyone else about any of this.”
“Okay.”
Chalk up one of the three rumors, assuming Ben kept his word. Relieved, Derek strolled into the building to retrieve his copy of the math textbook.
Today’s tutoring session had gone well. With Tom cooperating, they’d worked through a couple of difficult concepts, and chatted later about events at school. Strange to recall that his original motive for volunteering had been to snoop.
“Glad you’re still here.” Yolanda waved Derek into her office and opened her desk drawer. “I’ve been meaning to give you this.” She handed him a plastic bag containing a man’s watch. On closer inspection, he saw that the leather wristband was broken.
“Not mine, I’m afraid.” He attempted to hand it back.
The older woman waved away the attempt. “I discovered it beneath a heap of old leaves while pruning my bushes. My dog, Furball, has a tendency to bury things, so I’m pretty sure he’s responsible. However, I generally keep him on a leash.”
Derek regarded her patiently. “I’m sure there’s a reason you’ve brought this to my attention.”
“The last time he got loose was last June, on the day of the fire.” She let the significance sink in.
“You speculate that the mystery man dropped it.” As Derek recalled, Yolanda had reported glimpsing an adult male on the premises shortly before the blaze. She hadn’t seen him clearly enough to provide more than a general description. “I hate to be a spoiler, but there are lots of animals that could have buried the watch. A stray dog or a raccoon, for instance, or your pooch during a previous escape.”
“Finding this jogged my memory,” she replied calmly. “When I tried to catch Furball the day of the fire, he was carrying a shiny object. He got away, and I didn’t catch him for another ten or fifteen minutes. With all the excitement, the matter flew out of my mind. If I’d thought about his treasure at all, I’d have assumed it was a piece of junk.”
Derek took a closer look. An expensive watch. Normally, one would expect the owner to notify Yolanda if he believed he’d lost it on her property. “Did you check with your neighbors?”
“No one’s missing such an item.” Briskly, she concluded, “Of course, one of the firefighters might have dropped it.”
“I’ll inquire.” Derek tucked the plastic bag into his pocket to pass to Andie O’Reilly at the fire department. “There’s always a chance it’ll turn out to be important.”
“I’d love for you folks to nail the culprit. Two people nearly died that day. And I spent months arranging to collect the insurance and get the place repaired.” More gently, Yolanda asked, “How are you and Marta getting along?”
“We’re coping.” That sounded abrupt, so Derek added, “She’s a wonderful person.”
“As are you.” With that unexpected statement, she retrieved the phone from her pocket. “Vibrating,” she noted, and answered the call.
Derek went to fetch the math book. Afterward, in daylight, he examined the watch again, hoping for a break—an inscription, perhaps. But it simply appeared to be a good-quality watch such as one might buy in any number of stores.
What might have been a lucky break didn’t appear likely to save the day. His plan had better work, for his sake as well as the chief’s.
By breaking his promise of secrecy and by deceiving other officers right down to one of his best friends, Derek was staking every chip he owned on a very long shot.