Rene Gutteridge - Listen

“What can I do for you, Mr. Underwood?” Gavin asked, his stance and demeanor instantly changing. “You’re waiting outside my residence?”

“I didn’t want to have this discussion at the police station.”

“I imagine not. You’re not a popular guy right now.”

Damien looked away for a moment, trying to compose himself. He was no fan of Gavin Jenkins either. “I’m here to talk about Frank, but you already knew that.”

“I can’t give you any information about the case.”

“I’m not asking for that, and I don’t think you know anything anyway, being a rookie and all. They don’t tell you much, do they?”

“I don’t think we have anything to say to each other,” Gavin said, starting to walk away.

“You’re wrong,” Damien said. “I have a lot to say to you. Namely about how you could talk to your captain and make it sound like Frank had anything to do with that Web site.”

“Look, I realize you’re upset. We’re all upset about what happened to Frank. I didn’t spin it one way or another, though. I told the captain what I had observed. The fact is, whether you like it or not, Frank was on edge. Disappearing all the time. Obsessed with this Web site. Not over his divorce. Moody. I saw it firsthand. Whatever conclusions they drew from that wasn’t up to me.”

“Yeah, he was a little rough around the edges, but you know he was a man of character.”

“I know.”

“Then why not defend him? Why let his good name be dragged through the mud?”

Gavin just stared, still trying to maintain that stupid stoic expression on his face. “It doesn’t look like it’s his name anymore,” he finally said, looking Damien in the eye.

Damien didn’t flinch. “Well, better mine than his. At least I can defend myself.” He looked down, wondering what the point was to all of this. Yeah, it felt good to confront the kid, but so what? What had that accomplished? “I just… he’s my friend. He was one of the finest human beings I know. He went over to his ex-wife’s apartment to try to save her life. He sensed she was in danger. That’s the kind of man he was. He would’ve done the same thing for me. For anyone in my family. And even you. Do you know what his dying words were?”

Gavin shook his head.

“‘She’s worth fighting for.’ Even as he lay there dying, he said that she was worth fighting for and always would be.”

Gavin’s expression changed. He looked curious.

“What?” Damien asked.

“He said that to me too. All the time.”

“What?”

“‘She’s worth fighting for.’ But he wasn’t talking about his ex-wife. He was talking about Marlo.”

Marlo?

Gavin stepped to the side and around Damien. “I have to get to work.”

Damien watched him climb into an oversize, manhood-feeding pickup and drive away. Just when he was about to give up on this town, Frank reminded him, even from the grave, what there was to fight for.

He turned and headed into the cold wind.

Kay stirred her coffee, watching the cream swirl through the blackness. She took her mug and walked to the living room window that faced the street. A miserable cold spell had set in. The cloudy gray sky looked heavy and low. She’d not even changed out of her pajamas yet. Her mind, wrought with distraction, was having a hard time keeping pace with the usual schedule and doing such mundane things as combing her hair.

A certain comfort enveloped her, though, as she sipped the coffee and stared into the streets of her neighborhood. She couldn’t quite identify from where it came, because so much was in disarray. But it was something in Jenna, something she saw last night and this morning too. A sense of fortitude and resolve. She held her head a little higher, stood straighter, looked adamant and determined. For weeks now, her shoulders had remained in a constant slump. But not this morning. This morning she had a gleam in her eye like nothing could stop her.

And Kay had gotten a lot off her chest. Talked to someone who could relate. Came to understand some things about herself and her past and how it had affected her all these years. How she’d mothered from a deep fear she hadn’t realized was still with her.

She had a lot to share with her family, namely Jenna. A lot of forgiveness to ask for. A lot of confessing to do.

Kay wasn’t sure how much time had passed as she leaned against the window, contemplating what life had delivered to her family. She was just about to get a refill on her coffee when a familiar blue sedan pulled into her driveway.

Jill.

At once, she panicked. She was in her pajamas, without a stitch of makeup on, and hair matted on one side of her head.

Jill opened her car door, struggling to get out with something big in her hands.

Kay started to rush upstairs but stopped. Why the vanity? Here was a woman who was at her most vulnerable state, with an adulterous husband in jail, charged with murder. What impression, exactly, was Kay worried about giving? There were no more impressions to be made. Only honesty and compassion.

She set her mug on the kitchen counter and went to the front door, opening it before Jill had even made it up the porch steps.

“Hi! My goodness, what is this?” Kay stepped outside and helped her with the box. “Come in. It’s freezing.”

“Are you sure? I was just going to leave it on the doorstep. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re no bother at all. You want some coffee?”

Jill came inside, her cheeks bright red from the cold. “That sounds perfect.” She slipped off her gloves and coat and followed Kay into the kitchen.

“Cream? Sugar?”

“Yes, and lots of it.” Jill smiled.

“So, how are you doing?” Kay asked, grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

Jill was quiet for a moment, her gaze moving along the lines of the kitchen. “Mike confessed.”

“What?”

“They came in this morning with some deal. I guess they have a lot of evidence proving Mike did it, so they came up with some deal that will keep them from seeking…” She pressed her lips together as if it was something she shouldn’t mention.

Kay put the coffee mug down and came around the kitchen island, wrapping her hands around Jill’s shoulders. “I don’t even know what to say.”

She nodded and shook her head all at once. Tears pushed onto the rims of her eyes. “He told them that he had gone to the apartment to confront this woman, Angela. Not to kill her. That he’d taken the gun to scare her. He thought she wasn’t answering the door, so he used his key to get in. He wasn’t in there long when he was startled by the police officer and shot him. Accidentally. But I don’t believe him.”

“What do you think happened?” Kay poured the cream and sugar in, sliding the mug to her.

“I think he went there to kill that woman. And I don’t think he accidentally killed anyone.” Jill took the coffee and sipped through the hotness. “But the prosecutors say that the fact that he killed a police officer will assure that he’s in jail for the rest of his life.”

Kay sipped her own coffee and watched Jill, still unsure what to say.

“I have to be okay. For Natalie’s sake.”

“How is she doing?”

“All right, I guess. We had a good talk last night about accepting what’s happening and dealing with it in a raw and real way, instead of pretending that it’s not there or that there’s anything we can do to change it. Sometimes you just have to accept the reality of your life, you know? A couple of weeks ago we were worried about things like tryouts and the new uniform colors. Now…” She turned suddenly and stepped into the entryway, fetching the box she’d carried in. “I wanted to give this to you.”