He stared impassively at Tanya, knowing better than to get sucked into an argument with a drunk addict. Alana stayed where she was. She probably didn’t see too many mean drunks at the Wentworth Foundation, unless her stepfather had a drinking problem. Or her mother. Or Freddie, for that matter.
She knew everything about him, and he knew nothing about her.
Alana walked into the bright headlights. “Tanya, let’s get you home. It’s cold out here.”
“Do you know him at all, sweetie pie? Do you know what he’s really like?”
“Yes,” Alana said steadily, demonstrating no self-protective instincts at all. “I do.”
“So you know he’s a right bastard.” She looked at Lucas, and the anger and helplessness in her eyes tore right through him. “He didn’t used to be. He used to be my big brother. We were just cousins, but I didn’t have a brother. He was my big brother. He was going to help me get through my criminal justice degree, then get a job on the police force. So I could be like my dad.”
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out like you planned,” Alana said.
“Oh, I’m fine,” Tanya said. “I’m just fine. He’s the one who’s changed.”
Alana blinked.
“He used to be a nice guy. Did he tell you what happened? Why he left Denver and came back here?”
“No,” Alana said.
“Not talking much, huh?” She swayed. “A kid he was supposed to help died, and he gave up. He took the kid on climbing trips, helped him get into a magnet high school for the arts. And when the kid ended up dead, Lucas gave up on people. That’s what Lucas Ridgeway does. He quits on people. He came back here so he could be a fucking little dictator in a tiny little town in the middle of fucking nowhere, because he couldn’t hack it in Denver. It’s a good thing you’re leaving, honey. He’ll always pick the job over you. That’s why his wife left him. He couldn’t leave the job at work. He’s the job, and nothing but the job.”
The way she said it, you’d never know that all her life she had wanted nothing more than to be a cop.
Alana cocked her head ever so slightly to the right. “How interesting,” she said politely. “Let’s get you home. You’ll feel better after a hot shower and a change of clothes.”
Tanya stared at Alana. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you. Which car should she get in?”
“Matt’s,” Lucas said. If she got in his car, he couldn’t be held responsible for his temper.
Matt opened the back door to his vehicle. Tanya, deprived of a target to lash out at, slid into the backseat. Matt closed the door. The parody of chivalry would have been hilarious if Lucas had been in any mood to laugh. Without looking at Lucas, he got into the driver’s seat and turned down the road to the cabin.
Alana climbed back into the truck. Lucas shut his door and shifted into drive. “You handled that well.”
“My mother would be pleased to hear it,” she said. “She spent a fortune on comportment and cotillion classes.” There was a moment of silence, then she added, “You should stop underestimating me. I may lack experience with men, but a shrieking catfight is right up my alley.”
She wasn’t looking at him as she said it. Lucas knew she was using the same polished etiquette to smooth over what had happened.
They pulled up next to Tanya’s cabin. Matt handed her off to Lucas and Alana without the slightest hint of regret, and drove away.
“I don’t need a shower,” Tanya mumbled.
“You’re going to take one anyway,” Alana said.
“Fucking bossy bitch.”
“It’s part of my job title,” Alana shot back.
Lucas turned on the water in the flatly filthy shower.
“Get out,” Tanya said. “You know what, Lucas? I might be a drug addict, but at least I’m not like you.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Alana said.
He went into the living room and built a fire in the fireplace. Newspaper, logs, a few sticks for kindling, but he didn’t light it. He stayed on the floor, head bent, trying to process the emotions flaring like fireworks within him.
No one in Walkers Ford knew what had happened with Derik. No one. It wasn’t official police business tracked under his badge number. His involvement with the Boys and Girls Club was sanctioned, of course, but what happened slipped through the cracks. How had Tanya known?
Leanne, his ex-wife. She and Tanya had always been close. Back when she’d been angry with him for caring too much about everyone else and not enough about her, Leanne must have told his cousin, and Tanya had nursed it, waiting for the right moment to slip it between his ribs.
How had she known the person he’d hate most to know about his failure was Alana Wentworth?
Alana emerged from the bedroom and closed the door. “I treated her feet again. She’s asleep. On her side,” she added. “She’s going to have quite a headache when she wakes up.”
He couldn’t meet her eyes. “Let’s go.”
“Is what she said true?”
“Why wouldn’t it be true?”
“Drunk addicts say hurtful things when they’re under the influence.”
“It’s true.”
“Would you tell me what happened?”
He shrugged as they turned onto the paved county road into town. “Derik was a kid I met when I was volunteering at the Boys and Girls Club. Smart kid. Rising rapidly through the ranks in his gang because he had a head for numbers. Shit home life. Mother in jail, father gone since he was a baby, being raised by a grandmother too old to keep him in line and with four other kids in the house. I’d take him and other kids on climbing weekends. I did what I could to help him.”
He remembered his uncle laughing at his involvement, at his naivete.
You’ll learn, boy. You’ll learn.
But he had thought he could make a difference. If he just got Derik through high school, he’d be okay. But then he’d joined the task force and gotten married, and had less time to spend with one kid. He returned phone calls later and later, canceled lunch dates. Forgot his birthday.
Two years later, Derik was dead.
Duke leaned over the passenger seat and laid his snout on Alana’s shoulder. She reached up to idly scratch behind his ears. “What happened?”
“He died. Some stupid feud over a corner. Another kid pulled out a Glock and shot him six times at close range. He was dead before the ambulance was dispatched.”
The failure destroyed him, destroyed his marriage. Nelson was right. One person couldn’t stand against the tide of drugs and poverty and hopelessness. All he could do was clean up afterwards.
“Interesting,” she said.
“That’s what you said when Tanya shouted it to the sky.”
“I was at a loss for words,” she admitted.
“This isn’t Denver,” he said.
“I’m aware of that.”
“It’s not Chicago, either.”
“Also aware of that.”
“People matter here.”
She turned to look at him.
“People matter. Cody’s getting attached to you. So is Mrs. Battle. Her kids and grandkids are scattered all over the country. You’re making them care about you, and you’re going to leave.”
She gaped at him. “Lucas, everyone knew I was leaving. I can’t possibly matter that much to any one resident of Walkers Ford.”
You do. You matter that much to me.
“What about you? Do I matter to you?”
“You’ve been handy to have around,” he said offhandedly.
She lifted her eyebrows. “Handy.”
“You’re good with a flashlight.”
“I’m sorry for what happened with Derik,” she said finally.
“It was a lesson every cop learns eventually. You can’t save them.” Or Tanya. He couldn’t fight off poverty and drugs and hopelessness. He couldn’t fight off failure.
“That’s not what I mean,” she said. “I mean I’m sorry for Derik. For how you must have felt when he died.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t feel anything at all.”
• • •
HE DROVE HER
back to her house just before dawn, then went into his own house to catch a couple of hours of sleep before starting his day officially. His phone rang as he crossed the driveways to his truck. He’d spent so much time in Alana’s rented house that he’d started parking in Alana’s driveway as if it were home.
“Ridgeway.”
“Uh, Chief Ridgeway? This is Lee from the pawn shop down in Brookings. You were in a couple of weeks ago asking about a ring. I think I’ve got it.”
“I’ll be there in an hour,” he said.
When he pulled into the parking lot, the shop was nearly empty. Two kids perused the pawned games and consoles. They looked at Lucas, then sidled out the front door.
“What do you have for me?”
He removed the ring from an envelope stored in a drawer behind the counter. “I didn’t want to take a chance one of the other guys would sell it,” he explained as he opened the flap and upended the envelope over his palm.
A tiny ring dropped out, making no sound as it hit the clerk’s palm. Lucas picked it up and studied it. The gold, none too substantial to begin with, was worn thin at the shank. Eight diamond chips almost invisible to the naked eye surrounded a ninth. All were set in white gold shaped like a round flower. He recognized the ring. He’d seen it on Gunther’s wife’s finger often enough.
“I gave the guy twenty bucks for it,” the clerk said. “I’m not supposed to buy stolen property, but you said you were looking for it. My girlfriend said sixty-two years is a long time to be married. I didn’t want it to disappear again.”
Lucas pulled out his wallet and withdrew two tens. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” the clerk said.
“Let’s take a look at your footage,” Lucas said.
“Cameras are just for show,” the clerk admitted. “They’ve been broken for weeks.”
He showed the clerk the pictures he’d copied at the station before coming down to Brookings. “Any of these guys the ones who pawned the ring?”
The clerk shook his head to the first three pictures, all known meth addicts and small-time losers. He studied the next picture more closely. “Almost, but not quite,” he said. “Like, that could be the guy’s brother.”
Lucas slid the final picture to the top of the pile.
“That’s him,” the clerk said. “That’s the kid who pawned the ring.”
His heart sank. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch if this goes to court.”
He tucked Gunther’s ring carefully into the breast pocket of his shirt and headed out the door, into the sunshine.
• • •
WHEN HE PULLED
off County Road 46 into the ruts that led to the Burton trailer, Alana’s Audi was already parked by the front door. She stood on the rickety steps leading into the trailer, holding the door open for Cody.
“Lucas,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Get away from the door,” Lucas said, striding up the dirt path.
She blinked, her eyes going wide as he reached behind him for his handcuffs, then hurried down the steps to stand on the bedraggled grass beside the stairs. Cody appeared in the door.
“Come here, Cody,” Lucas said evenly.
“What are you doing here?”
“Now.”
Cody hitched his long, skinny body down the steps. “What?”
“Where’s your mother?”
“Yesterday was payday. She took the little kids to McDonald’s for breakfast.”
“Your brother inside?”
Cody blocked Lucas. “He’s sleeping.”
Lucas heard scuffling at the back of the trailer, then the sound of a door slamming. With a muttered curse, he leaped off the stairs and sprinted past Alana, gaining speed and traction as he rounded the corner of the trailer. Colt Burton was running flat out through the field, toward the creek.
It was pointless. There was nowhere to go. Colt had built up some muscle in prison, but Lucas had speed and endurance on him. He brought him down in a flying tackle a few yards from the slope to the creek bed. The impact knocked the wind out of Colt, giving Lucas enough time to get him cuffed.
He hauled him to his feet. Colt doubled over again, the panic on his face no doubt a mixture of an inability to breathe and being back in police custody. This didn’t stop him from trying to twist out of Lucas’s grip.
Cody and Alana stood side by side at the end of the trailer, watching all of this. Alana held one arm across her stomach while the other hand covered her mouth. Cody’s hands were fisted impotently.
“What the fuck are you doing to my brother?”
“Your brother just pawned Gunther Jensen’s ring at a pawn shop in Brookings,” Lucas said.
Cody looked at Colt, who was still gasping for air. “Is that true?”
Colt refused to look at his brother. “Fuck, no.”
“Did you break into Gunther’s house?”
“Fuck off.”
“He didn’t,” Cody said, half-pleading, half-asserting. “He didn’t. He’s met his curfew. He’s seeing his parole officer. He’s looking for jobs. He wouldn’t do that to us.”
Alana’s face was a frozen mask, but Lucas could see the sorrow and horror in her eyes.
“Where’d you get the ring?”
“I didn’t pawn any damn ring!”
“The clerk identified you.”
“He’s lying.”
“Was he home last night?” Lucas asked Cody.
“Yes,” Cody said defiantly. Color stood high on his cheekbones.
“Don’t lie to me,” Lucas said. “I will arrest you for obstructing justice and lying to a police officer. Do not fucking lie to me.”
“Lucas,” Alana said quietly.
Eyes locked on Cody’s, Lucas held up one finger. He wasn’t pointing at her, just reminding her that this was police business, not hers. “Was your brother home last night?”
Fury and shame and sheer hatred shifted across Cody’s face, aimed at Lucas because he couldn’t aim it at his brother. “He came home an hour ago.”
“Oh, God,” Alana said.
“You little fuck,” Colt said, twisting in Lucas’s grip. “Way to look out for your family.”
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said to Cody. He got Colt into the backseat of his Blazer, then shut the door.
When he turned back to Cody, the boy was standing at the foot of the stairs, his arms folded over his stomach, shoulders hunched. Alana stood next to him, her expression worried, her hands fluttering as if she wanted to comfort Cody but knew he’d just shake her off.
“What are you doing here?”
“Picking Cody up so he can start working on the mural,” she said.