Chapter 25

Lucy parked her car in the driveway of Dolores’s exceptionally bright home. It was a nice street in a quiet neighborhood with slightly outdated homes. She could probably afford a home in this area. It didn’t have the same quaint charm as her parents’, but it also didn’t have Alex across the yard. She knocked on the front door, unexpectedly charmed by the cheerfulness of her window planters. She couldn’t name any of the flowers, but they made her smile.

“Oh, you made it! Come on in. Andrew isn’t home. He’s out with some friends, which is just great. He doesn’t get out enough. Anyway, between running errands and working, I haven’t even had a chance to talk to him, but I just know he’s going to be so excited that one of his paintings is going to be part of something so special,” Dolores said in one long-winded breath.

Much like Dolores, the home was colorful. It was less cluttered than Lucy would have expected, but every color imaginable existed between the front door and what she could see of the living room. There were two steps down into the sitting area where a red velvet couch sat across from a white leather one. They looked like the angel and devil version of couches. Lucy wondered if Dolores chose where to sit based on her mood. On the walls, there were photographs of Dolores and her son. He was a good-looking kid despite the sullen frown that graced most of the pictures. Dolores’s smile in each photo made up for his obvious lack of enthusiasm.

“I just have to grab a couple from his room, okay?” Dolores said excitedly.

“Sure,” Lucy replied, hoping that the art would sell. Dolores would be so disappointed if they didn’t. Lucy took the steps down into the sunken living room and moved toward the fireplace, drawn to the abstract painting that hung above it. The colors were beautiful, dark swirling with light. If this was the quality of Andrew’s work, there was a good chance that his art would bring in some money. Lucy’s eyes were caught in the movement of the lines, the way they merged together, not quite circles, not quite meeting in the middle before they burst away from each other in new colors. She tilted her head a bit, stepped closer, and when the lines in one corner merged into a heart-like shape with a curved tail, she sucked in a breath.

“Told you he was talented,” Dolores bragged, her heels click-clacking over her laminate floors. Lucy turned, wide-eyed. Dolores had two small canvases. She placed them on the couch so Lucy could see both. One was abstract like the one over the fireplace, but now that Lucy knew what she was looking for, she spotted the heart symbol immediately. It was harder to spot in the second print of a woman’s back, the delicate curves of her hair flowing over her shoulders. A blanket was pooled at her hips. In the cascading movement of the blanket, the symbol, was nestled quietly. Lucy bit her lip, struck by the beauty of the paintings and the reality of them. She needed to talk to Alex. Breathe. Stay calm.

“They’re amazing. You’re sure he won’t mind parting with these?” Lucy asked, hoping her voice sounded normal. To her own ears, it was tinny and far away.

“You know what? If I wait for him to believe in himself, I’ll be waiting forever. Sometimes, you have to give the people you love a nudge in the right direction.”

Lucy nodded and forced herself to meet Dolores’s proud eyes. She was so happy for her son. She truly had no idea. Lucy thanked her several times, desperate to get out of this woman’s house, desperate to see Alex, and desperate to avoid running into the town’s vandal and arsonist.

Alex knocked harder than he’d meant to on his father’s door. He could hear Chuck inside, music blasting. Jesus, it was like they’d reversed roles and his dad was now the teenager. Loud music, sneaking around, making out with women… Alex shuddered as the image flashed in his head. Chuck yanked the door open, scowling at his son.

“Why the hell are you mad at my door?” he barked, looking back and forth between Alex and the door.

“I’m not. I’m mad at you,” Alex returned. He was ready for this, braced for the fight. His dad was strong enough to take it, and Alex could really use a punching bag to unload everything that had happened in the last week.

“What else is new?” Chuck asked, walking away, leaving Alex to follow. Alex closed the door quietly to compensate for the desire to slam it. The television was blaring and the sounds of the game show pressed on Alex’s already-stretched nerves.

“You’re fucking Dolores.”

Chuck whirled, and Alex wondered if he had ever seen his dad that angry. He clenched his hand around the remote, the knuckles turning both red and white. He clicked mute, and the silence was louder than the show had been.

“You watch your mouth,” Chuck said, his voice barely controlled.

“That’s not much of a denial,” Alex said, ignoring the obvious signs of rage boiling beneath his dad’s surface.

“I don’t have to confirm or deny anything. This is my goddamn house, and you’ll speak respectfully of her or you’ll get the fuck out of it,” Chuck boomed. He threw the remote onto the couch but kept his fists clenched. His anger doused some of Alex’s. This kind of anger didn’t come from a fling or a backroom tryst. His dad cared about Dolores.

“Do you love her?” Alex asked, shocked at the possibility.

“Of course I love her, you idiot. You think I’d be running around with her if I didn’t? Protecting her and hiding things from you until I figure out what the hell is going on?”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“Firstly, it’s none of your business. We didn’t expect it, but you with your stick-up-your-ass ways… We didn’t want to say anything until we were sure there was something to say. Now we’re sure. I’m going to ask her to marry me,” Chuck said, defensiveness clinging to every syllable.

Alex took a step back, pushed his hands through his hair, and stared at his father.

“Holy hell. Marry? How long have you guys been together?”

“Not that it matters, but about six months. When you know, you know,” Chuck said, unclenching his hands.

“Like you knew with mom? That worked out real well,” Alex snapped. His phone buzzed, but he ignored it.

Chuck’s shoulders slumped. He shook his head at his son and sat on the couch. Alex took the chair across from him.

“Your mother and I didn’t handle our divorce well. I shouldn’t have left. She shouldn’t have left you. We screwed up. I’ve tried to make up for it. I’ve tried to be a good father to you since the minute she dropped you here. Obviously, I didn’t do so great, even when I was given a second chance,” Chuck said. He was looking at Alex like he was just coming to this realization.

“I never said you weren’t a good dad,” Alex said grudgingly.

“I was angry at her, too. I didn’t think about how that would affect you. Over the years, you let it go. You forgave without even meaning to. I should have told you that I wasn’t angry anymore. That it wasn’t just her fault. I should have talked to you about how she left.”

“What difference would that have made?”

“Maybe you would have felt less abandoned. I don’t know. Hindsight is a kick in the ass. She loves you, Alex. She always has.”

“Not enough to stay. And that’s not what this is about,” Alex said, jumping to his feet, sick of the pressure in his chest.

“It damn well is. Your suspicious nature makes you a good cop, but it makes you wary of anything good. Like it can’t last. Like somehow, the good will slip away no matter what you do. That’s bullshit. You don’t want the good to slip away, then you hang on tighter. You hang on to it harder than you hold on to the anger and the bitterness, or you’ll end up empty and alone. I don’t want to be empty and alone anymore, so even if it pisses you off, I’m hanging on to Dolores.”

Chuck stood as well, to punctuate his words. They stared at each other, stuck between the past and the present. Move forward. Let go of the past. If he were honest, Alex knew that he wasn’t angry at his mother anymore. She’d been trying to get in touch with him for a good five years now, but he hadn’t been strong enough to forgive her. A man who needs forgiveness ought to be able to give it. Especially after all this time.

Lucy’s fingers were shaking as she texted Alex that she needed to see him. She met Kate and Char at the rec center. They were hanging tulle elegantly along the sparkling white walls. Music was coming from one of their iPods. Tables were set up but not dressed and packages lined the walls, all items to be auctioned.

“Look who decided to show up,” Char joked, then looked stricken. “I’m just joking.”

“I know. You guys, I know who the arsonist is,” Lucy blurted. Char dropped the tulle she was holding, and Kate gaped at her from where she was standing on a stepping stool.

“What are you talking about?” Char asked.

Lucy told them everything, barely pausing when she spoke. By the time she finished, she was out of breath like she’d run a marathon without water. Her hands were still shaking.

When his dad went to grab them both a drink, after some of the tension had ebbed, Alex grabbed his phone to check his messages. His heart thundered when he saw there were several texts from Lucy. He scrolled through them, and his heart marched its way up to his throat, pulsing painfully when he got to the last one. It’s Andrew. Dolores’s son. He’s the tagger. Alex. Phone me. PHONE ME. PLEASE. Chuck walked back into the living room, two Coronas in one hand and a bag of Doritos in the other. Alex stood.

“Dolores’s son. His name is Andrew?”

“Yeah. Moody kid. Not thrilled his mom is going out with me. His dad took off a few years back, and the kid blames Dolores. You two will have something in common,” Chuck said, holding the beer out. A smile spread over his face, “You’re not going to be all needy having to share my attention, are you?”

Alex didn’t take the beer. He put his phone in his pocket.

“Is he at home?”

“Who?” Chuck was looking at him like he’d lost his recently found mind. He put the beer and the chips on the coffee table.

“Andrew! Dolores’s son. Where do I find him? At her house?”

“How the hell would I know?” Chuck looked at his watch. “He’s out of school by now. Why? You want to meet your soon-to-be stepbrother that badly?”

“Yeah. I really do. The sooner I meet him, the sooner I can arrest him,” Alex replied.

The three sisters were sitting on the floor of the main gymnasium. The smell of paint and new wood surrounded them as her sisters processed what Lucy had told them. Her phone rang.

“Alex?” she answered, pulling herself up off of the floor.

“Where are you?”

“At the center,” Lucy replied, looking at her sisters.

“Stay there. I’m on my way,” Alex said. Lucy felt like things inside of her shifted back into place with his words.

She put her phone down and told her sisters he was coming. As she walked back toward them, she smelled it. Smoke. She looked around to see where it was coming from.

“What is that?” Kate asked, standing. Char stood as well and walked to the double doors at the front of the open room. She pushed on them repeatedly.

“What the hell? Something is blocking the doors,” Char said. Lucy’s neck heated—she felt too warm. She forced herself to breathe. The doctor had told her to avoid stress. Cause that’s possible. The rec center consisted of a huge gymnasium, a smaller gymnasium, and a few rooms between them that would serve as classrooms for the various kids’ programs that would be offered. And, Lucy hoped, where she could offer photography classes.

“Check the other door,” Lucy said, heading out of the main gym and down the small hallway. She passed the boys’ bathroom, the girls’ bathroom, and turned into one of the classrooms. There were windows, but they pulled open in a V-shape from the top. She walked to the classroom door. It didn’t budge when she tried to open it. What was blocking the doors? Do not panic. For now.

Alex explained to his dad on the drive to the rec center. Chuck argued and refused to believe him, calling Alex petty and childish. But he also called Dolores and asked her where Andrew was. Alex called the station and sent Elliot and Cam over to the center, just to be sure. He had a bad feeling and good instincts.

When they pulled up, his heart slammed into his ribs. He saw smoke. Elliot and Cam were out of the patrol car, guns drawn. They saw Alex and Chuck. Elliot motioned to the side of the center with his hand. Alex pulled his gun. He heard the fire engine in the distance, amazed he could hear anything over his own heart. He saw the two-by-four that was shoved through the front doors of the building. Alex signaled for them to cover him while Chuck moved to release the two-by-four. Around the side, Alex saw the blond-haired kid that had eluded him for months, crouched low and holding a long twist of newspaper, lit at the end, against the wood of the building. Sam had purposely used an anti-accelerant paint. Alex hadn’t known that such a thing existed. It could still flare up, but a chemical formula kept it from happening quickly.

“Put your hands up, Andrew. Put the fire down and stomp on it,” Alex said, firm and low. Andrew flinched, his shoulders hunched. He stayed where he was, crouched in the same position, but he put the fire down.

“Stand up,” Alex demanded. Andrew stood. Turned around. The extent of the anger that Alex saw on his face surprised him. And sadly, reminded him of the kid that he, himself, had once been. Andrew said nothing, just stood facing Alex with a sneer on his face, his hands by his sides.

“Someone is at the front,” Char yelled. “Lucy!”

She could hear her sisters yelling her name as she came back into the main gym. Chuck came through the doors, followed by Cam.

“You girls okay? Let’s get you out of here,” Chuck said, grabbing Char and Kate’s arms, pulling them forward as Lucy joined them. Cam stowed his weapon and took Lucy’s arm.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes. We’re fine. What’s going on?” Lucy replied.

“Can’t say just yet,” Cam said as they exited the building. The fire department pulled in, sirens blaring. Dolores’s car pulled up at the same time. She was out of the car before the fire engine had parked.

“Where’s Andrew?” she screamed. The firemen yelled as they set up to put out the small fire that was spreading along all of the greenery that had been planted.

“Calm down, Dolores,” Chuck said, releasing Lucy’s sisters. The firemen went to work on the bushes that lined the wall of the rec center.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! He’s my son! He’s just a kid,” she yelled, pounding on Chuck’s chest. He took both of her arms and pulled her to him, fighting her struggling.

“He’s with my son. Just calm down. Everything will be okay,” Chuck said.

Cam pulled Lucy over to the squad car, and her sisters stayed by her side. Alex came around the corner of the building a moment later, nodding to the firemen. He had a sulky looking teen by the arm and was dragging him along. Elliot followed behind, gun still drawn.

“Seeing as we’re going to be related, I didn’t slap the cuffs on him,” Alex snarled to his dad. His eyes found Lucy’s.

“Of course you didn’t! What is the matter with you? What’s going on?” Dolores continued to screech, rushing Andrew and throwing her arms around him, tears streaming. Alex let him go and came to stand in front of Lucy.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. She nodded. He reached out to touch her, but pulled his hand back and looked at Eliot.

“Get these girls home. We’ll deliver their cars later,” Alex instructed, his tone hard and cold. Lucy wanted to protest but changed her mind.

“Ladies, if you’ll allow me to escort you,” Elliot said, smiling at them. Recovering from their scare with more ease than her, Kate smiled back at him, a little too brightly for Lucy’s taste. Char took her hand and squeezed it. Kate called shotgun while they climbed into the back.

“You get to explain to Dad why the cops are bringing us home,” Char said to Lucy.