Dee Henderson: The Witness

“I’d like to meet your sister.”

He blinked at that request. “Would you?”

“I bet she’d like to meet me too.”

Luke laughed. “Honey, I think that’s a given.” He let the smile slide to something serious to ask softly, “You want to move into the gallery flat at some point?”

She shook her head. “Marie wants to move, to start over somewhere else in town. She’s too in tune to the memories there; what she paints in that studio now would be sad paintings. She needs somewhere that makes it easier to smile, and I’m inclined to agree with her.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“We’ll stay at your friend Nathan’s place long enough to be absolutely sure life is returning to quiet. Six months maybe, a year. I don’t want to get overconfident and assume this is the end of the trouble, but I’m growing hopeful for the first time in a long time. Once the books are turned in and Richard Wise is confirmed to be less of a threat-then Marie and I will find a new place to move to.” She looked at him and attempted to hide a smile. “Maybe a little place I know for sale over on Sandstorm Avenue. A place on a big corner lot with a fence around the backyard and lots of roses growing around an in-ground pool. I hear it’s got five bedrooms and original wallpaper in the attic room.”

“Original plumbing I suspect too. You don’t think it’s a little obvious moving into a place four houses away from the police chief?”

“Is it? Fancy that. You can come use our pool and Connor can turn red saying sir all day.”

“Just ask Peter to walk through it before you buy it, okay? Make sure there’s nothing in it he can’t fix.”

“He already promised that there was nothing money can’t fix when it comes to plumbing, heating, roof, and walls. The decorating-he said that was our job.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m being told about this after you bought it?”

She just smiled.

“Come here then, neighbor. I haven’t had a hug tonight, and I find I miss it.”

She obligingly shifted around on the couch to share his space. “Do you think we’ll ever look back on this time and be okay with it?”

“I’m not even going to try: eight years of your life gone, Tracey’s death, Marie and Marsh walking around with broken hearts. But I guess I’d rather be a survivor of it than not. We’ll look back at this night and remember, and sometimes remembering is better than anything else that could be added to it.”

“Life flows swiftly by and sometimes through tragedies, but it keeps flowing on.”

“I wouldn’t have put it so philosophically. Life happens.”

She leaned back. “You want to stay and watch the sunrise with me? Or should I kick you out to go get some sleep?”

“I can’t stay right here and do both?”

“No. That would be rude to your girl.”

“Oh.” He smiled. This was going to take getting use to, but there were times in life patience got rewarded. He rubbed her bare arm and wished she’d pulled on a sweatshirt rather than be beautifully dressed and cold. “Why don’t I come back and take you out to breakfast? You need some sleep.”

She leaned back and looked at him. “Promise?”

“Promise.” He tipped up her chin and leaned down to kiss her. She tasted a bit like coffee and honey, and her eyes were open through the kiss, enjoying the sight of him too.

“I’m out of practice,” she said softly, her hand tracing his mouth.

“A fact which pleases me,” he replied, settling his hand over hers and interlacing their fingers. “I’ll have breakfast every day with you for the rest of our lives if you’ll behave yourself. I like the dating bit and the flirting and the courting…”

She laughed. “Okay. I’m walking you to your car so morning can get here faster.”

“Only if you put on shoes. I’m seeing frostbite in your future the way you keep tempting fate.”

“It gets your sympathy so it has its rewards. We might accidentally bump into Connor and Marie though.”

“I’m not whispering to warn them we’re coming,” he replied, amused at the thought. “Come on, up. Let’s go say good night at the car so I can properly say good-bye again.”

She moved away with a soft laugh but pulled on her boots and a coat and let him take her hand for the short elevator ride downstairs. “I wonder what Daniel will think, his guests sneaking in and out on him in the middle of the night.”

“If he’s smart, he’ll think he’s missing something in life spending it just babysitting all that money and making it grow into more money.” Luke eased her into his arms for a final hug at his car. “You’re okay until morning? No nightmares to chase away or gremlins to swat down for you?”

She hugged him back. “I’ll be remembering a kiss and thinking about breakfast.”

“I like that thought,” he replied, watching over Amy’s shoulder as Connor slipped Marie back inside the building. He bit back a smile and slid his glance back to Amy. “Would you like to start a new tradition tomorrow? Maybe a kiss good morning to add to a kiss good night?”

“Sounds promising.”

“I think so.” He rested his forehead against hers and decided she had pretty eyelashes. “I’m going to miss you for the next few hours.”

His pager began to beep, but he ignored it.

“Maybe six, or would you prefer seven?” he offered.

“No earlier than eight or I’ll have icky teeth, and my hair will look like a rat’s nest still.”

He smiled and kissed her one last lingering time. “Eight.”

“Answer your pager; you’re the chief.”

“The next twenty years of this… at some point remind me to smash the thing.”

She smiled and slipped from his arms. “Don’t be late.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He watched until she walked back into the building and gave him one last wave before letting himself look at the beeper. The text scrolling by said hospital: two bb cvd . He ached to hear civilians were hurt to the point of broken bones, knew the drunk-driver tag would be the cause, and felt honest relief to not see the capital C which would mean a cop was among the injured. The department had absorbed all it could for a while.

He reached into the car and picked up the radio. “55-14. Mark me 10-8 to Mercy General.”

He watched a light come on in Daniel’s guest bedroom as he started the car to let it idle and warm up. Amy would sleep and he’d do his job-there was comfort in that. “Night, Connor.”

“Night, Chief.”

Luke smiled as he reversed out of the parking spot and turned toward the hospital. The man was learning. There hadn’t been any discomfort in that quiet reply. He’d have Connor as deputy-chief material yet.

The midnight pages for the top cop’s assistance were rare; probably one of the city councilmen had been driving the car; those drunk-driving arrests his officers preferred the chief to make. Luke shifted the radio volume up a notch and listened to the flow of the dispatcher’s voice. The town was quiet tonight overall. A good quiet.

DEE HENDERSON is the author of twelve best-selling novels, including the acclaimed O'Malley series and the Uncommon Heroes series. As a leader in the inspirational romantic suspense category, her books have won or been nominated for several prestigious industry awards including the RWA's RITA Award, the Christy Award, the ECPA Gold Medallion, the Holt Medallion, the National Readers' Choice Award, and the Golden Quill. Dee is a lifelong resident of Illinois and is active online. Visit her at www.deehenderson.com.