Colton 911--Soldier's Return, page 23
Carly nodded. “I’d like that, too.”
He hesitated, his expression serious. “I’m thinking of talking to my mom about them both moving to Chicago after they sell the farm. I think it’d be better for everyone if they lived closer to us.”
“I agree.” Heart full, Carly nodded. “And I’d really love for them to meet my family, too.” One large, blended family.
“Me, too.” Micha kissed her again, another slow and sensuous promise of what the night would hold later.
From her spot on the floor, Bridget woofed, wagging her tail.
“See, even our dog agrees,” Micha said, smiling broadly.
Our dog. Carly liked that.
“Come on.” Micha pulled her up to her feet. “Let’s go see if there’s anything we can help with in the kitchen.”
“You go.” She shooed him with her hands. “I want to freshen up a bit. I’ll be out there shortly.”
He kissed her again, a quick one this time, and left. Once the door had closed behind him, Carly dropped back onto the end of the bed. Bridget got up and nudged her with her nose so Carly would pet her.
Stroking her dog’s silky fur, Carly exhaled, reflecting on how much her life had changed in such a short time. The love of her life had come back to her, she’d gained a dog and now would be adding in-laws to her family. Maybe even, someday, she and Micha would have children. The thought made her smile.
The only thing that could make her life complete would be for her father’s and uncle’s killer to be caught and brought to justice.
After washing her face and brushing her hair, Carly headed toward the kitchen with Bridget padding along at her side.
She’d barely reached the end of the hallway when the scent of something heavenly reached her. “Lasagna?” she guessed, stepping into the kitchen.
Beth grinned. “Yes. My specialty from an old family recipe. When Micha was younger, he requested I make it for every birthday.”
“That and your amazing cheesecake,” Micha added, looking hopeful. “I don’t suppose you happened to make one of those, too?”
Instead of answering with words, Beth simply went to the refrigerator and opened it. She held up a beautiful cheesecake decorated with cherries on top.
“Of course!” Micha laughed. “Thank you so much, Mom. I seriously used to daydream about your lasagna and cheesecake.”
After closing the refrigerator, Beth turned to face him. Her eyes had filled with tears. “I almost lost you twice. Once at Brian’s funeral and then again when the army told me you were killed. Naturally, I’m going to make your favorite foods for you.”
Pushing to his feet, Micha hugged her. “I love you, Mom.”
She hugged him back. “I love you, too.” Holding out her other arm, she met Carly’s gaze. “Get over here, Carly. I want a group hug with my daughter-in-law-to-be.”
Touched, Carly joined in. To her surprise, she even teared up a little.
“Sit, sit.” Beth motioned toward the table. “Lasagna takes time to cook. I’ve made salad that we can eat beforehand if you’re hungry.”
“We can wait,” Micha said. “Sit with us, Mom. Carly and I want to talk to you about considering a move closer to Chicago.”
Stunned, Beth pulled out a chair and dropped into it. She looked from Micha to Carly. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. At least think about it, why don’t you? Since you’re selling the farm and planning to move, anyway, why not live closer to us?”
“Plus, the Chicago area has a lot of top-notch doctors,” Carly added. “I work at one of the hospitals there, so I can help you with referrals. I know how difficult finding a good doctor can be.”
After looking from one to the other, Beth covered her face with her hands, crying now in earnest. “I’d love that,” she finally said, smiling through her tears. “And I’m sure your father would, too. I’ll talk to him about it, when he’s able to understand.”
Micha nodded. He reached into his pocket and put a small, highly polished carving on the table. “I made this for you,” he said.
Beth sniffed, reaching for it. When she picked it up, she began crying again. “This is beautiful,” she managed. “And looks just like us, right about the time you left for the army. You say you made this?”
Slowly, Micha nodded. “I kept it with me for years. Now I’d like you to have it.”
She smiled through her tears. “I’ll treasure it always.”
The stove timer dinged.
“Oh!” Beth jumped to her feet, wiping at her eyes with her hand, before grabbing a tissue and blowing her nose. “The lasagna is done. It will need to sit on top of the stove for a few minutes. Carly, do you drink red wine? Would you like to eat your salads?”
Declining Carly’s offer to help, Beth bustled around the kitchen, clearly in her element.
Later, after devouring the most delicious lasagna Carly had ever tasted, bar none, along with garlic bread and salad, Carly nearly groaned when Beth got out the cheesecake. “I’m too full,” she protested.
“You have to just try a bite,” Micha insisted. “Even if it’s just a sliver. I promise you, you’ve never tasted anything like it.”
With a sigh, Carly gave in. Both Micha and Beth watched, beaming, as Carly cut into the fluffy dessert with her fork and opened her mouth. She’d expected good, but this was better. Melt in your mouth, light and sweet and perfect. “That’s the best cheesecake I’ve ever tasted,” she said, unable to conceal her amazement.
Clearly pleased, Beth laughed.
“I told you,” Micha said, before turning his attention to his own plate. He devoured his own slice, as did Carly.
Then, stuffed and sleepy, Carly finished her wine and jumped to her feet. Ignoring Beth’s protests, she began taking care of the dishes. “You and Micha go on and let me clean up,” she said. “I’ll join you both in the living room when I’m done.”
Bridget woofed, reminding Carly she hadn’t been fed.
By the time Carly took care of her dog and the dishes and poured herself another glass of wine, thirty minutes had passed. She carried her wine into the living room and took a seat on the couch next to Micha. He put his arm around her and tugged her close.
Beth watched them both with a dreamy smile. “I never thought I’d see this day,” she mused. “Thank you, son.”
“For what?” Micha asked.
“Forgiving me and your father our mistakes.”
Micha appeared stunned. “We all have made choices we regretted later. Me in particular. If Carly hadn’t forgiven me...” His voice broke.
Carly kissed him, snuggling into his side. “I think the best thing to do is keep looking toward the future,” she said. “We cannot change the past.”
The three of them chatted for a few more hours. They turned on the evening news and watched that, too. Finally, Beth excused herself to go to bed.
“We’ll be visiting your father again tomorrow,” she reminded Micha, stifling a yawn. “I’d like to go in the morning, so I can bring him doughnuts from his favorite place. I’m thinking we can leave around eight.”
Micha used the remote to turn off the TV. He got up, gave his mother a hug and kissed her cheek. “We’ll be ready. I’m hoping Dad will feel well enough tomorrow to meet Carly.”
Beth’s smile never wavered, despite the sadness in her eyes. “Sleep well, you two. I’ll see you in the morning.”
After Beth left, Micha and Carly turned off the lights. Carly took Bridget outside one last time and then they made their way to their room.
As quietly as possible, they got ready for bed. Bridget turned circles on the dog mat Carly had brought for her, heaved a sigh and settled down to sleep.
“This has gone better than I expected.” Micha climbed into bed, propping his pillow up behind his back. “Everything I could ever have dreamed of, with the exception of my father having had a stroke.”
“He’ll get better,” Carly said, hoping she was right.
“I think so, too. I can’t wait to introduce you to him as my bride-to-be.”
The satisfaction in his voice made her smile.
“Do you want a long or a short engagement?” she asked, getting into bed next to him.
Micha shot her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me here? I want to marry you as soon as is humanly possible.”
Turning to face him, she took both his hands into hers. “I agree, but I’d prefer to wait until your entire family can be there. Your father needs time to heal.”
Clearly touched, Micha held her gaze and slowly nodded. “I agree. But I don’t want to wait forever. It’s already been way too long.”
“Let’s see how your dad does in rehab. Your mom said she’d keep us posted.”
Micha nodded. “That sounds like a plan. But you know what? Your family isn’t going to want to wait. As soon as they see that engagement ring on your finger, you know they’re going to start planning big-time.”
This made her laugh. “You’re right. But at least I have a good excuse to make them give us a month or two.”
“You do,” he agreed. “But before we leave tomorrow, I’m going to tell my dad he’d better work hard so he doesn’t hold up our wedding too long.”
Carly wasn’t sure what to think about this. “Are you sure that won’t be putting too much pressure on him?”
“Nope.” He kissed her, his eyes lighting up. “He thrives on a challenge. He always used to say what motivated him the most was someone telling him he couldn’t accomplish something. He’s got this, Carly. I know he does.”
She nodded, then reached over and turned off her nightstand lamp. “We got this, too, Micha Harrison,” she breathed, nibbling on his ear. “Now turn off your light so we can show each other how much we do.”
With a strangled laugh that turned into a moan as her mouth moved lower, he did as she’d requested.
“Turns out you’re right, Carly Colton,” he murmured as she settled her body over his. “We got this.”
* * *
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Chapter 1
“I am being careful, trust me. It’s my job. If I’m not on my toes, I’ll never get to the bottom of Charlie’s murder. I’m starting with the man who falsely accused him and whose testimony put Charlie behind bars.” Dominique de la Vega focused on driving in steadily increasing traffic as she entered downtown Grave Gulch, Michigan. Her morning call to her fraternal twin, Soledad, was over her car’s hands-free option.
“I get what you think your job is, sis, but I’m worried. You’re pushing your luck too far. If Charlie really was murdered, as you suspect, there are bigger forces at work here than one or two criminals.” Soledad’s concern made Dominique wish they were speaking face-to-face, so that she could better reassure her sister.
“I’m telling you, Soledad, Charlie was innocent. And I’m chasing down the best lead since his death, since he was convicted.” Ever since she’d started teaching creative writing at the county prison two years ago, Dominique’s investigative-reporter instincts had gone into full alert mode. One of her students there, Charlie Hamm, had convinced her that he’d been wrongfully convicted and imprisoned; he’d insisted that the drugs he’d been accused of dealing were never his. He’d claimed the witness who’d testified against him had lied, and that false evidence had been planted, too. When he was found dead from an “apparent prison brawl,” she’d wished she’d acted sooner on Charlie’s claims of innocence. The least she could do now was dig until she uncovered the truth.
“I get it, Dom. You want justice for Charlie. He was one of your best students and his poetry touched you. He convinced you he’s innocent, and I have to agree that it sounds like he was. That’s fair. But what kind of justice would it be if you get hurt, or worse? You said this possible lead is about who put Charlie behind bars in the first place?” Interest reflected in Soledad’s voice, but Dominique also heard distraction. Her sister was baking up a storm, as usual. As the owner of Dream Bakes bakery, it was her life.
Dominique stopped at a traffic light on Grave Gulch Boulevard in the center of the city and gave herself a heartbeat to answer her perceptive sister. If she told Soledad who she was really interviewing, or where exactly she was going to in Grave Gulch, her sister would relay the information to their father in two seconds flat. He’d flip out when he discovered she was willfully going into a part of town she wasn’t familiar with, in the midst of a drug cartel’s attempted takeover of their beloved town. If her father had read last night’s police blotter in today’s Grave Gulch Gazette, he’d have figured out that she was going to where drug-related crimes had occurred last night. To complicate matters, there was a serial killer on the loose in Grave Gulch, too, which added to Rigo de la Vega’s worries over his family. Dominique appreciated his concern, and while she felt not a little guilty that her actions caused him any angst at all, she wasn’t going to stop doing her job. She was in her third decade of life and had ventured into dicey situations all over town and the state for countless stories over the years.
She didn’t disagree that any part of Grave Gulch was downright dangerous when it came to ferreting out information from a probable drug dealer and, at the very least, false witness. The particular street she was headed to had seen several serious crimes this past week, all opioid related. As much as GGPD wasn’t cooperating with her on this story as she’d like, she felt for them. Every time it looked like the heroin scourge had been tamped down, it popped up again without warning. ODs often happened in clusters, depending on where the dealers were peddling their lethal wares. Dominique had learned long ago that getting the whole story often meant taking risks but getting her dad on board was another matter. Especially difficult to convince was her father, Rigo, who was beyond protective of his twin daughters, and always had been.
“Yes, the lede in my story is about Charlie’s key accuser. I’m going to get to the bottom of why he lied. Then I hope to tie it into Randall Bowe.” She believed Charlie’s case was yet another instance of GGPD’s forensic scientist deliberately tampering with evidence. “You know he’s suspected of planting the false evidence that almost put Everleigh Emerson in jail for murder for good, and several others, right? Thank goodness Everleigh was cleared.” She gripped the steering wheel in frustration. “GGPD is in over its head, if you ask me. Now that it’s solid truth that Bowe planted false evidence against Everleigh, GGPD has clammed up about the other cases, including Charlie’s. It’ll be more difficult for me to figure out why Bowe went after Charlie but trust me, I will.” Randall Bowe was in her sights, and she wasn’t letting up. Charlie’s death placed his case at the bottom of the GGPD priority list, as other investigations Bowe deliberately damaged involved the living. It wasn’t going to keep Dominique from getting justice for Charlie, though. “Look, sis, I can’t give you more information right now. You’ll tell Dad.” She never could hide her thoughts from her sister.
“Maybe I will, Dominique. You sound like you’re already in trouble. Where are you, anyway?” The clang of utensils and aluminum sheets sounded over the connection.
“I’m in Grave Gulch, downtown. I just drove past you. Trust me, I wouldn’t walk into a place unprepared, or in a dark alley or anything like that. Plus, it’s broad daylight.”
“Don’t patronize me, sis. We both know that evil knows no time of day or place.”
Dominique sighed, wondering why she’d told Soledad about any of this in the first place. Why hadn’t she kept their morning connection time simple and allowed her sister to do most of the talking?
You’re nervous.
Yeah, she was a little on edge. Going in to find and ask for an interview from the man, according to Charlie, who’d lied to put Charlie behind bars wasn’t what she’d consider usual, even for her job. Usually she’d leave the investigation of criminal activity to GGPD. But first Randall Bowe had evaded questioning, and now GGPD was locked down about Bowe’s involvement in rigged prosecutions. She had to do something, and that meant going after the false witness. Ever since she’d taught the creative writing and poetry night class for inmates in the county correctional facility, she’d established a bond with the men and women who had found themselves behind bars, rightfully or wrongfully.
She’d listened to those who claimed wrongful imprisonment, agreeing to use her skills as a reporter to investigate what she could, but made no promises. Again, this wasn’t her job, it was GGPD’s. As she had expected, she found many allegations to be unfounded. When confronted with the facts, most inmates had stopped insisting on their innocence. But not Charlie Hamm. Charlie had always proclaimed his innocence, and had never given up on the hope that he’d be released early, once someone proved his case. He was arrested a year before he’d been arrested again and sent to prison, both times for dealing. Dominique believed his heartfelt admission that he’d deserved the first arrest, and that it had scared him straight. Charlie swore he’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to help users and dealers break free of the sordid life. He’d been brought up on drug dealing charges with what appeared to be minimal but solid evidence in the form of an eyewitness and a single fingerprint. When the reports of Randall Bowe’s alleged evidence tampering began to leak out of GGPD, her reporter senses had tingled. Besides the possibility of a fake witness, evidence against Charlie, in the form of the fingerprint on a suitcase full of opioids, had been handled by none other than Randall Bowe. She knew GGPD was up to its neck in work with the confluence of a serial killer on the loose, the increasingly powerful opioid cartel and the recent kidnapping of a young child who’d been thankfully found safe and sound. All separate incidents. It would be unrealistic to expect GGPD would get answers on Charlie’s case with any sensible timeliness.
