IN THE end, they all had to go to the ER—standard practice after surviving a fire. The chopper ride was brief, and Lucas didn’t get another chance to question John as they whipped his daughter away to pediatrics as soon as they landed.
Lucas was sitting, dozing on a gurney, three hours later, wondering if they had forgotten about him and he could just leave, when the curtain opened and Captain Cassidy walked in, accompanied by someone in a suit.
Two someones—a woman looking equally businesslike followed them in. Lucas shook Cassidy’s hand as it was extended and then looked expectantly at the two strangers.
“These are Deputies O’Connor and DuPree from the Marshals Service,” Cassidy said flatly. Lucas raised an inquiring eyebrow.
Redheaded O’Connor’s Celtic origins became obvious when Lucas heard the lilt in his voice. “We wondered if you could confirm that this is the young man you met during the rescue in Kerrygate this morning.”
He passed Lucas a photograph, and Lucas stared at John. Only it was a very different John from the one he had met. This man stood with his back to the camera, turning his head to look at whoever was taking the pic. And he was beautiful. Lucas had never used that adjective to describe a guy, but there was no other way to acknowledge his startling light green eyes and smooth skin, the tilt of his head at such an inviting angle. He imagined John’s lips were curved in humor, and maybe he even had a few laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. Not that Lucas had seen any amusement in his eyes earlier—all they’d held was fear. John wasn’t smiling in this photograph either. In fact he wore no particular expression at all. He just stood there, posing on the steps of a grand house that reminded Lucas of a place he’d seen in a travel brochure one of the guys had brought into the station because his fiancée had her heart set on Italy for their honeymoon. John’s eyes were just as luminous as he remembered, but his light brown hair was much longer, blonder, and tied back. He was wearing tight black shorts and an artfully torn tank top displaying a tiny waist that would have made half of Tory’s friends jealous. Lucas guessed the clothes probably cost a ton of money. When his clothes were torn like that, he usually threw them in the trash.
Lucas nodded. “John.” He paused, still having the nagging feeling he knew him from somewhere. “But I didn’t get a second name. Why are the Marshals interested? He knew something was off, and passed the photo back, catching the second look the marshals tossed at each other.
“I can’t reveal any details, but John and his daughter are at high risk. We need to get them into protective custody as soon as possible.”
“What?” Lucas said, bewildered. “But they’re—”
“Gone,” Deputy DuPree admitted. “As soon as it was confirmed that his daughter hadn’t inhaled any toxins, he slipped out while the nurse was hunting out more spare clothes for them. We’re checking CCTV, but while the ER has it for reception, there doesn’t seem to be any other cameras.”
There wouldn’t be, Lucas thought. He knew nearby Greeley had them, but he doubted even their local bank had any video surveillance. That was life in a small town.
Lucas tried to concentrate despite his weariness, but he still uttered the first question that popped into his head without filtering it. “If he’s at risk, why is he running from you?”
DuPree glanced at O’Connor, and they seemed to come to a silent agreement. “We have reason to believe there might be a leak in our department. What type of leak it is and how far it goes is still under investigation—”
“So he doesn’t trust you,” Lucas interrupted.
Another glance. “We can’t say,” O’Connor responded. “But he is definitely at risk until he has given evidence. We need to bring him in.”
“If I did know something, nothing you two are saying is exactly giving me the confidence to spill.” He put his hand up to ward off the angry objection before it was made. “He didn’t tell me squat. Not that there was exactly time. I didn’t even have a chance to ask why he was there.” Lucas glanced over at Cassidy. “Ask Karen. She thought the circumstances were suspicious as well. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure the kid was his, except you could see he was really worried about her.” You could. His face had softened when he looked at her, and he’d been highly protective of her, even when he could barely stand up himself. “Is she actually his daughter?”
DuPree’s lips twisted in an approximation of a smile. “What makes you ask?”
Lucas shrugged. He didn’t know how to explain his instincts had been screaming at him that something was wrong.
“It’s complicated, but yes. Or as good as.”
“I wish I could help.” And he did. He didn’t like the idea of John and Mia wandering around on their own. “Does he even have any money?”
O’Connor shook his head. “We don’t honestly know. If he does, it’s cash, because all his accounts are being monitored.”
Accounts? Plural? That was something else that seemed off. Lucas sighed and glanced at Cassidy. “Trying not to burn to death doesn’t give you time for chitchat, so….” Lucas shrugged.
Cassidy nodded and shuffled restlessly, reminding Lucas that his captain had to be as exhausted as he was. DuPree pulled out a couple of business cards and handed one to him and another to Cassidy. “If you think of anything else, please call me.”
“Who’s he giving evidence against?” Lucas asked.
Again, the look was telling. O’Connor sighed. “I can’t go into details, but he’d been in protective custody for more than two months. His detail—two marshals—were killed in a shootout three weeks ago, the night before he was due to give evidence. John and his daughter have been on the run ever since. He’s the prosecution’s star witness, and if he doesn’t deliver, an especially bad man will get away with things that should get him locked up for a very long time, if not permanently. We managed to delay proceedings, but the courts won’t wait forever.”
“To say nothing of our real concern that he’s on the run with a vulnerable child,” DuPree commented.
Lucas rubbed his tired eyes. “I wish I could tell you more.”
The marshals left and Cassidy shook his head. “I’ll call a ride for you. You were cleared, but they asked us to wait around till they got here.”
“Where do I know him from?” Lucas wasn’t stupid, and he’d noticed the careful look Cassidy had shot him a few times.
“He looked different the last time you saw him,” Cassidy admitted.
Lucas swung his legs off the gurney. “Who is he?”
Cassidy leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Remember when that children’s charity came to the station to shoot a calendar?”
Realization widened Lucas’s eyes. The model. He’d turned up for the shoot, with almost white-blond hair—obviously dyed—and those same stunning green eyes. Lucas had seen him for, like, five seconds before they had been called out. “He looks a bit different.”
Cassidy nodded. “He retired a couple of years ago. Got married, I think. I dunno. Karen recognized him, but I don’t think anyone else would now. I’ve been ordered to keep it hush-hush.”
Lucas stretched, needing a walk. “I don’t need a ride. I want to remind myself I can still breathe fresh air.”
Cassidy chuckled. “The crews have everything contained. Go home. I don’t want to see your sorry ass until Friday.”
Lucas nodded. That was good. Today was Monday, but he still hesitated. “I need a day, but if our crazy guy decides—”
“He’s been quiet for a few weeks, if it even is a ‘he.’”
Lucas fastened his boots. He knew the “he” Cassidy referred to was still a mystery. Their “crazy” might be male or female, could be one person or multiple people. Their company had been called out to two fires a month ago—one abandoned car that was too close to a wooded area this time of year and a warehouse that the investigators thought was arson.
Just routine stuff… except there were some striking similarities to previous blazes. It was starting to look like the same person, or persons, were behind them all, deliberately making them look like carelessness. Cassidy had shared his suspicions with Lucas a few days ago but had asked him to keep it quiet.
“Well, you’re gonna spoil me, giving me more than two days off.” Lucas straightened up, wincing as his back creaked. Shit, he was getting old.
“Not that you couldn’t have longer,” Cassidy continued. “You must have three years’ worth of vacation saved up.” Cassidy’s face fell. “Ah shit, Lucas, I didn’t mean—”
Lucas clapped his old friend on the back. He didn’t need people to keep tiptoeing around him. Other people coped with loss every day and went on with their lives. “It’s all good. I’ll have a think about it and get back to you when I’m not so tired.”
He waved to Gemma, the receptionist at the ER at Knowles Medical, knowing they were lucky to have an ER at all. Summerton itself was much quieter than nearby Greeley—barely fifty miles north of Denver—with a very small residential population. But in high season, that number tripled. The campgrounds, hotels, and guest houses were usually fully booked between May and September and over the holiday season. Even the winter was picking up, since good skiing was less than two hours away and Summerton’s hotel rates were more affordable.
He waved at Keith, one of the ER nurses just coming on shift, and slipped out into the dusk. It wouldn’t actually get dark until after seven, but since that was barely an hour away, the shadows were lengthening.
“Lucas?”
Jacko sat behind the wheel of his wife’s car. She’d probably driven it to work for her night shift in the hospital, and he was taking it home.
“Hey.” He smiled tiredly.
“Are you okay?” Jacko frowned. “The captain told me you had to stay a while.”
“I’m fine. I had to wait and talk to the marshals about that guy and his daughter.”
Jacko nodded. “They asked me, but I said we didn’t have time to exactly shoot the breeze.”
“He’s on the run. Some sort of witness to something.” Jacko had been on vacation at the time of the calendar shoot, Lucas remembered. He was glad he didn’t have to keep anything from his friend.
“With a kid?” Jacko looked horrified. He came from a huge family, and judging from the amount of sisters and cousins he had who were currently expecting, it was only going to get bigger. The thought reminded him to ask after Christine. She and Jacko had been trying to get pregnant for a long time and had finally decided to explore different treatment options.
“How’s Christine doing?”
Jacko’s smile twisted a little. “Rheanne, Chris’s baby sister, just announced she’s expecting. Ink’s barely dry on their marriage license.” Which wasn’t a prerequisite, obviously, but Lucas understood what Jacko meant. Of all people, he understood life wasn’t fair. “So, are you going to get in or what?” Jacko motioned to the door of the car.
Lucas shook his head. “Thanks, but I need the walk.” Jacko’s smile was understanding. Lucas promised to give him a call later.
He took a breath and tried to decide which way to go home. He had two choices—Main Street or through the park. He generally avoided the park, with the small duck pond and the children’s play area, because most days, he didn’t need the reminder. But today, knowing he was in some way responsible for saving a little girl’s life, he found the courage he didn’t usually have.
It was deserted, thankfully. Seeing an empty playground wasn’t as bad as hearing a full one. He could never walk through here during the day, or worse, when the kids had just gotten out of kindergarten. Stevie used to love the park. The giggles, the shrieks when Lucas used to swing Stevie higher, the pleading to go faster, no matter what Mommy said. Lucas slowed nearer the path that led to the bandstand that hosted the high school jazz band on Fridays, and the hill behind it, where open-air screenings of all the old favorites were often held. But it had been three years since he’d been back here, since he could stand to be back here. Sometimes he would still wake up with the sound of Stevie’s giggles in his ears, and the ache that accompanied them would only intensify when he opened his eyes to silence.
Tory had been so excited the night they had gone to see Brief Encounter. He’d had to stand there for more than an hour with an umbrella over them both when it had started raining because she’d refused to miss the ending.
He would have stood there forever if she’d asked.
Lucas blinked. He was so tired. Maybe… maybe he needed a change. Maybe he should take his years of experience and go do what Karen was doing. It was the very definition of masochism to stay in a place that reminded him of what he’d lost forever and would never get back. Maybe he should take some time off and go looking to see what other jobs were available.
As he crossed the deserted playground, he thought he imagined the first wail. It sounded familiar. But then, his son hadn’t sounded like that. Not even in the nightmares after the accident, when Lucas jerked awake, convinced Stevie had been crying for him… and dying inside when all he heard was silence. He knew being near the little girl in the fire had brought back everything he had been trying to avoid for the past three years.
“Sir?”
He swung around, knowing instantly what—or who—he was going to see. He hesitated for the space of a heartbeat before he opened his mouth and said something to make the man run again. “John, hey. Can I help?”
The young man from this morning was clutching a different set of blankets covering the little girl. Lucas walked toward him slowly, not wanting to spook him. He looked frightened. But on top of that, his face held a bone-deep sadness. A weariness, as if he had fought for as long as he could and was ready to give up.
“You both need help,” Lucas said matter-of-factly. “You have a lot of people trying to find you. They want to keep you safe.”
John scoffed.
Lucas blew out a breath, honestly wondering after the week he’d had how he was still vertical. Maybe he was asleep and dreaming. “Isn’t there anyone you trust?” He could think of a few names off the top of his head, but they were all local. And the impression the two marshals had given him was that this was a much bigger deal.
John shook his head and swayed slightly. Lucas moved quickly, frightened he was going to drop the baby, but John stiffened and yanked his arm away before Lucas could reach out.
Lucas scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Look—” He’d better not regret this. “I live five minutes away, on the other side of the park. You can come with me. I have food and a bed, at least for tonight.”
John stared up at him, indecision written on his face.
“If you didn’t trust me a little, you wouldn’t have called out.”
John inhaled and blinked sharply.
“I’m going home,” Lucas said gently. It was like trying to coax a feral cat. “You have two choices. I promise not to call the cops if you stay tonight. But if you go, I’m calling them now. You clearly have nowhere to go, and she definitely can’t stay out all night, even if you can.”
John was clearly torn. “There was a number for a shelter on the wall as I left, but I didn’t get all of the address. I was looking for someone to ask directions, and I saw you.”
Lucas searched his pale face, trying to match it up with the memory he had of seeing the man. But then, he knew better than anyone that people changed. “It’s St. Catherine’s. Father Grayson is a good man.” Lucas pointed. “But it’s also a thirty-minute walk in that direction, and you’re both beat.” He looked at the clear sky. “It will drop well below freezing tonight.” It was getting there now.
“You promise not to call the cops?” John sounded desperate.
Being at the end of his own rope made it easier for Lucas to spot it in others. Fuck knew there had been enough times in the past three years that he’d only clung on by his fingernails.
And there’d been enough times he’d been tempted to simply let go.
Lucas nodded. He had no idea how much trouble he might get into for not reporting John right away, but he was done. They all were. “I give you my word I won’t call anyone tonight. We’ll get a good night’s sleep, have some breakfast tomorrow, and then we’ll come up with a plan. Okay?”
John nearly smiled.
“Just over there.” Lucas pointed to a small row of townhouses, or cottages, as Tory used to call them. Maybe he ought to move. He wasn’t surprised there was no one around. Mr. Jacobson would have already been settled for the night by the home nurses, and Jenny and Mick would be feeding their brood. He imagined Polly, who worked the night shift in the ER, would have left for work, and the Harveys were on vacation. “Mine’s the end one.” The one with the half-finished summer kitchen and small seating area. Three years, it had sat waiting.
That made two of them.
“Thank you,” John murmured, then came to a complete stop. Lucas had taken two more steps before he realized. He looked back, taking in John’s sudden stricken look, then glanced back to his home to see what had alarmed him.
“I never asked if you were on your own.” John paled even more. “I’m sorry. I might be putting your family—”
“I’m on my own,” Lucas interrupted. “And much as I sympathize, I wouldn’t be letting you in here if I had my own kids to worry about.” They shared a look. For a second, understanding arced between them. John nodded, and after a quick furtive look up and down the quiet road at the end of the park, he quietly followed Lucas inside.
Lucas led them both through the hallway into the small kitchen at the back. It was clean and functional now, when once it had been warm and cozy. He tried not to look at his house through John’s eyes. Empty. Bare. Silent.
Lucas glanced at the little girl. “What do you need for her, John?”
John looked down and gently eased the blanket from her face. She was asleep. Worn out. “I fed Mia at the hospital while we were waiting. She doesn’t need night feeding or anything.” He hesitated for a brief second, and again Lucas braced himself for the lie John was probably about to tell. He hated it, even if he understood why.
“I never got to thank you properly.” He paused for a moment. “And my name is Owen, not John.” He held out his hand, the one not supporting Mia. Lucas took it gravely, touched by the show of trust. The man’s skin was soft, but the shake was firm.
“The bedroom is at the top of the stairs, to the left. There are spare sheets and pillows in the closet. Bathroom’s the next room after that. Help yourself to anything there. You hungry?”
Owen shook his head. “Too tired.”
“Well, what they don’t tell you is when you become a firefighter, you have to learn to cook. So you’ll get a good breakfast, in any case.”
“I don’t know how to say thank you,” Owen said as he carried Mia toward the stairs.
“You just did.” Lucas watched them go up to the bedroom. He did his usual walk around the two small downstairs rooms to make sure everything was locked up, then grabbed two bottles of water. He left one outside the spare room door, since the light was on in the bathroom, and went into his own room across the hall.
Was he insane? He didn’t know how much trouble Owen was in, but if the Marshals were involved, that meant there was a threat to his life.
And Mia’s.
Maybe the karma fairy was giving him the chance to make up for not saving another child’s life. Maybe someone else was ready to forgive Lucas for the deaths of his wife and child… even if he could never forgive himself.