Colton stopped in the open doorway of Juliet’s office and tapped once to get her attention. “Are you busy?”
“That depends on who’s asking whom. If it’s the police chief speaking to the records supervisor, of course I’m busy. I’m always busy. I earn every penny you pay me and then some.” Then she smiled, a sweet, provocative, God-how-he-loved-her smile. “If it’s my husband speaking to his wife, of course not. I’m never too busy for you.”
“How about the man who has that desk you requested for the new clerk you begged for?”
“I’ve got time. I’ll help you move it in.” She left the computer and walked to the door.
Colton didn’t move but waited until she started to brush past to put his arms around her and nuzzle her neck. “You look awfully pretty today.”
“Thank you. It’s my favorite dress.”
“It’s my favorite, too.” It had been, ever since one April evening when he’d watched through the screen door as she’d walked down the hall, buttoning soft fabric to conceal soft, pale skin. He’d entertained a few fantasies that night and later about removing the dress. Now he lived those fantasies on a regular basis, and they were good.
Life was good, better than he’d ever imagined possible. He’d resigned from the DEA and accepted the job of police chief when Frank Sanderson retired last month. He’d identified and brought charges against the dispatcher who’d been on Hal’s payroll, the one who’d warned his brother and set in motion the events that had nearly cost Juliet her life. He’d tied up all the loose ends of his mother’s murder and found peace with her passing. He’d given up his rather depressing apartment and moved into a pretty little green house, and he’d married the most beautiful woman in the world exactly four weeks ago today.
Life was damned good.
The only dark spot on his horizon was Hal. His relationship with the kid brother he used to protect might never be the same again. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive Hal for setting into motion the events that had culminated in their mother’s murder. After Hal’s guilty plea on charges of narcotics trafficking in early May, though, Colton had eight to ten years to figure that one out.
“We have just enough time to get this office rearranged, then we have to get to the park,” he said, reluctantly letting Juliet go. The city council had voted to rename Vanderbilt Park in honor of his mother and all that she’d done for Grand Springs, and he was scheduled to speak at the ceremony. He didn’t care much for the idea of making public speeches—he’d lived so much of his adult life hiding in the shadows—but, with Juliet at his side, he could do it. He could do anything.
“It’s going to be a tight fit,” she said, thoughtfully surveying the room. “You know, the office space the chief shares with his administrative assistant is quite a bit bigger than this. I think it would be only fair—”
“Fair doesn’t count, darlin’. I’m the chief, and I get the best office. If we put Mariellen’s desk over there—” he pointed to one side “—then there’ll be room for Faye’s desk over there. We can put them facing the wall, where the center of the room will be all open, or they can face each other, with a walkway between them to get to your office.”
“Let’s put them facing the wall. Mariellen doesn’t need any more distractions than she’s already got.”
“You know, darlin’, now that you’ve got Faye, we could probably do without Mariellen.” The new clerk was older, responsible and mature. She had come to Grand Springs from the Denver PD, already a certified NCIC terminal operator, and she fully understood the concept of coming to work on time and putting in a full eight hours of work in exchange for eight hours’ worth of pay.
With a smile, Juliet shook her head. “Mariellen’s getting better. Besides…”
“You’ve learned to like her.” He pulled first one, then a second, two-drawer file cabinet away from the wall to make room for the desk. As he pulled the second one out, a piece of paper caught behind it fluttered to the floor. He picked it up, then stared, disbelieving, at it. “Well…this solves our last little mystery.”
“What is it?” Juliet came to stand beside him. She scanned the paper, then laid her hand on his arm. “Oh, Colton.”
It was a fingerprint card, dated nearly a year ago, and the prints on it were his own. The purpose of the query, stated on the card, was to establish identification of a John Doe white male, approximately forty years of age—thirty-seven, he knew now—six-three, blond and blue, and suffering from amnesia following a motor vehicle accident. Stone had filled out two cards—one for the state crime bureau, one for the FBI—and had taken the prints himself, then passed the card on to the records clerk to forward.
On to Mariellen.
“But I thought—” Juliet went into her office and opened a file drawer. A moment later she returned, leafing through the documents inside. He looked over her shoulder at Stone’s notes, the original unknown-persons bulletin, copies of the second bulletin and Juliet’s request for matching information on gunshot victims. The last item was from the state crime bureau in response to the first bulletin, reporting that no record of the subject was found. There was no response from the FBI.
Everyone had assumed that his fingerprints weren’t on file anywhere—that he wasn’t a cop or a convicted criminal and therefore not easily identifiable—because Mariellen had claimed a not-on-file response from both agencies. In fact, she had never sent his prints to the FBI. If she had, he might not have remembered who he was, but he would have known. They would have identified him in a heartbeat. At least one important part of the mystery of his past would have been solved.
Instead, because of an empty-headed, careless and disorganized clerk, he’d spent more than ten months in the dark and troubled about who he was, about what he was.
“Oh, Colton, I’m sorry.”
“Mistakes happen. Fingerprint cards get lost. But since you’ve got us working completely digital, this won’t happen again” And maybe it wasn’t a mistake. Maybe it was fate that had caused his print card to literally slip through the cracks. If he’d been identified sooner, he probably would have left Grand Springs before spring. He would have missed Juliet, and his life would have been so much poorer for it.
“Want me to file that?”
He shook his head. “I’m keeping it for good luck. In getting lost, it’s already brought me the best of luck of all—you.” He laid the card aside, lifted the heavier end of the desk and said, “Grab that end so we can get out of here. It’s a beautiful day, and I want to spend part of it alone with my beautiful wife.”
Once the office was rearranged, Juliet dusted her hands. It was ten minutes until eleven—just time enough to get to the park for the rededication that, in addition to honoring Olivia, would also commemorate the one-year anniversary of the massive June rainstorm. Grabbing her purse and the fingerprint card, she hurried Colton out to the car.
The park was packed. She clung to his hand as they made their way through the crowd, stopping to greet well-wishers and friends. Many of them had been at the wedding a month ago—Noah Howell, the doctor who treated Colton after the accident, and his wife Amanda; Stone and his wife Jessica; Jack and Josie Stryker. Tracey from the library had attended, too, and Sherri from the credit bureau and Pete, the night cook at the diner, and Reverend Murphy had performed the ceremony. He greeted them now from the new playground where children were crawling in, around and under anything that didn’t move.
Some of the others were people she knew only to say hello to—the Frames, the Bennetts, the Montgomerys. They talked for a minute with Travis Stockwell, whose family had been a direct gift of the storm, when he’d delivered a stranger’s twins in the back seat of his cab and fallen in love with mother and babies, and with Tony and Bethany Petrocelli, who had been brought together by love for a baby born and abandoned during the emergency. Randi Howell, the runaway bride, was there with her husband Brady, and so was Juliet’s doctor, Karen Sloane, with her family. Seeing Karen reminded Juliet of their appointment next week. She and Colton were eager to start a family, and though she’d rarely had a sick day in her life, she wanted the doctor’s okay before the birth control went out the window.
They were all people whose lives had been changed in some way by last year’s incredible storm. Some had suffered only minor inconveniences. Others had found someone to love. The entire town had lost someone they loved. The rainstorm would go down in the Colorado history books.
Finally Juliet and Colton reached the newly finished fountain, which bore a brass plaque dedicating it and the acres around them to Grand Springs’s finest mayor. Colton slid his arm around her shoulders as they read the plaque praising Olivia’s dedication and her achievements.
“I wish I’d known her,” Juliet said wistfully.
“She would have loved you.”
“You sound so sure of that.”
“I am. Because I love you.” He bent to kiss her, but drew back at a teasing comment.
“Knock it off, you guys. There are innocent children around here.” Eve stretched onto her toes to kiss his cheek, then sweet Molly, looking like an ethnic china doll with her father’s striking Native American features and her mother’s—and uncle’s—equally striking blue eyes, broke free of her father’s grip and climbed into Colton’s arms. “Hi, Uncle Colton. Do you know why we’re here?”
“I do, sweetheart. Do you?”
“Uh-huh. Because it’s a special day. Because Grandma went to heaven, and now she’s an angel looking down on us.”
“I bet she is, and she’s thinking what a beautiful granddaughter she has.”
“And what a pretty wife you have.”
Grinning, Juliet leaned over to give the girl a smacking kiss. “Did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite niece, Molly?”
“Of course I am, Aunt Juliet. I’m your only niece.”
She returned to her father as the mayor called the gathering to order. He kept his comments brief, then turned the microphone to Colton. With a squeeze of his hand for reassurance, Juliet moved back, let Eve take her place at his side and listened to the calm, even sounds of her husband’s voice.
“Our mother was a firm believer in second chances. Her second chance came when she was a widow with two young children to support, and she made the most of it. She went to college and became an attorney. She dedicated herself to making life better for those around her—not just her own family, but her neighbors, her friends and strangers, too. She accomplished so much, and those of us who loved her best are so proud.” Stepping back, he relinquished the microphone to Eve.
“It is with pride that we announce the formation of the Olivia Stuart Foundation to provide assistance and aid to the people dearest to her heart—those in need. Those trying to make their lives better. Those who need a hand to get their lives back on track.”
Her voice went on, but Juliet wasn’t listening. She was looking at Colton, who was looking back with love in his intense blue eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, the words nearly soundless.
“For what?”
“Loving me. Believing in me. Being my second chance.”
“Oh, darlin’,” she murmured, unable to control the smile spreading across her face. “I’m your last chance. You’re stuck with me forever.”
As a moment of silence fell over the crowd, he leaned toward her. Just when she thought he might kiss her in front of everyone, the quiet was broken by a childish voice in the crowd. “Is it over yet?”
The plaintive question signaled the end of the ceremony as laughter rippled through and people began breaking up into neighborly groups to chat. Colton wrapped his arms around Juliet, and, just before his mouth claimed hers, murmured the sweetest words she’d ever heard.
“It’ll never be over for us, darlin’. I’ll love you forever.”