Nora Roberts - Remember When

She closed the door, rested her forehead against it. Everything ached: her head, her body, her heart. There'd been tears in his eyes still when he trotted away. Tears for Willy. He'd grieve, she knew. He'd blame himself. And in that state, he might do something stupid.

No, not stupid, she corrected and wandered into the kitchen to pace aimlessly.

Reckless, foolish, but not stupid.

She couldn't have stopped him. Even if she'd begged, pleaded, even if she'd turned on the tears herself. He'd have carried the weight of them when he walked away, but he'd have walked.

Yes, he'd always moved well for a big man.

She heard Max coming toward the kitchen and hurriedly reached into the cupboard for mugs.

"Right on time," she said brightly. "Coffee's just up."

"Morning coffee's got to be one of life's best smells."

She turned then, stared at him as his words echoed her father's in her mind.

His hair was still damp from the shower. Her shower. He'd smell like her soap.

He'd slept in her bed. He'd been inside her.

She'd given him all that. But after a ten-minute visit from her father, she was holding back trust, and truth.

"My father was here." She blurted it out before she could question herself.

He set down the mug he'd just picked up. "What?"

"He just left. Minutes ago. And I realized I wasn't going to tell you, wasn't going to say anything. I was going to cover for him. It's conditioning, I guess. Or partly. I love him. I'm sorry."

"Jack O'Hara was here? He's been in the house, and you didn't tell me?"

"I'm telling you. I don't expect you to understand what a step this is for me, but I'm telling you." She tried to pour coffee, but her hands were shaking.

"Don't hurt him, Max. I couldn't stand it if you hurt him."

"Let's just back up a square here. Your father was here, in this house, and you cooked me dinner, went to bed with me. I'm upstairs making love to you and he's hiding out-"

"No! No! I didn't know he was here until this morning. I don't know when he got here, let himself in. He slept on the couch. I let Henry out, and when I walked into the kitchen again, there he was."

"Then what the hell are you apologizing to me for?"

"I wasn't going to tell you."

"For what, three minutes? Jesus Christ, Laine. You put that kind of honesty bar up for us, I'm going to keep rapping my head on it. Give me a break."

"I'm very confused."

"He's been your father for twenty-eight years. I've been the guy in love with you for about two days. I think I can cut you some slack. Okay?"

She let out a shuddering breath. "Okay."

"That's the end of the slack. What did he say, what did he want, where did he go?"

"He didn't know about Willy." Her lips trembled before she managed to press them together. "He cried."

"Sit down, Laine, I'll get the coffee. Sit down and take a minute."

She did what he asked as everything that had been aching was now shaking. She sat, stared at her hands while she listened to liquid hitting stoneware. "I think I might be in love with you, too. It's probably an awkward time to mention that."

"I like hearing it." He set the mug in front of her, then sat. "Whatever the time."

"I'm not playing you, Max. I need you to know that."

"Baby, I bet you're good at it. Considering. But you're not that good."

The cocky tone was just what was needed to dry up threatening tears. She looked at him then with a definite flash of amused arrogance. "Oh yeah, I am.

I could swindle you out of your life savings, your heart, your pride, and make you believe it was your idea to hand them over with a bow on top. But since it looks like the only thing I'm interested in is your heart, I'd rather it really be your idea. Jack could never play it straight with my mother. He loved her. Still does, for that matter. But he could never play it straight, even with her. So they didn't make it. If you and I go into this, I want the odds in our favor."

"Then let's start by figuring out how to handle your father."

She nodded and picked up the coffee he'd brought her. She would be steady, and she would be straight. "He sent Willy here to give me a share of the take. For safekeeping, from what I can gather. You should know that if that had gone through, I'd have taken the stones, then passed them back to him. I'd have given him considerable grief about it, but I'd've done it."

"Blood's thick," Max acknowledged.

"From what I can gather, he got worried because Willy didn't call him-and his, Willy's, cell phone's been off. So he changed the plan, came here to pick up the dog."

"What dog?"

"See, it was a pooch, not a pouch. Or, the pouch is in the pooch. God, it sounds like a bad comedy routine. But I didn't get the pooch with the pouch, so my father figures the cops scooped it up with Willy's effects. And he believes Crew-he verified Crew, by the way-tracked Willy here, just like you did, and that's what spooked Willy and had him running into the street."

"There's not enough coffee in the world," Max murmured. "Go back to the dog."

"Oh, it's not an actual dog. It's a figurine of a dog. It's one of Jack's old gambits. Hide the take in something ordinary so it can be passed-and passed over by whoever's looking to get it back-until the heat's off. Once he hid a cache of rare coins inside my teddy bear. We strolled right out of the apartment building, chatted with the doorman and walked away with a hundred and twenty-five large inside Paddington."

"He took you on a job?"

His very real shock had her lowering her gaze to her coffee mug. "I didn't have what you'd call a standard childhood."

Max closed his eyes. "Where's he going, Laine?"

"I don't know." She reached out, covered his hand with hers until their eyes met. "I swear I don't know. He told me not to worry, that he'd take care of everything."

"Vince Burger has Willy's effects?"

"Don't tell him, Max, please don't. He'll have no choice but to arrest Jack if he shows up. I can't have any part in that. You and I, we don't have a chance if I have a part in that."

Thinking, he drummed his fingers on the table. "I searched Willy's motel room.

Didn't see any dog figure." He brought the room back into his head, tried to see it section by section. "Don't remember anything like that, but it's possible I passed over it, thinking it was just part of the room's decor.

'Decor' being used in the loosest possible sense."

"That's why it works."

"All right. Can you talk Vince into letting you see Willy's effects?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation. "I can."

"Let's start there. Then we'll go to Plan B."

"What's Plan B?"

"Whatever comes next."

***

It was a little distressing how easy it all came back. Maybe it was easier, Laine thought, since she didn't have to talk to Vince. But she was, essentially, still deceiving a friend and lying to a cop.

She knew Sergeant McCoy casually, and when she realized she'd be dealing with him, quickly lined up all the facts she knew about him in her head. Married, Gap native, two children. She was nearly sure it was two, and that they were both grown. She thought there was a grandchild in the picture.

She added to those with observation and instinct.

Carrying an extra twenty pounds, so he liked to eat. Since there was a bakery Danish on a napkin on his desk, his wife was probably trying to get him to diet, and he had to sneak his fixes with store-bought.

He wore a wedding ring, his only jewelry, and his nails were clipped short.

His hand was rough with calluses when it shook hers. He'd gotten to his feet to greet her and had done what he could to suck in his gut. She sent him a warm smile and noted the color that crept into his cheeks.

He'd be a pushover.