Cop by Her Side

“Maybe.” What did this have to do with anything? He wasn’t sure. But he said, “My dad’s a hard-ass. You know? That’s the only time I can ever remember seeing him emotional. Scared. And gentle with Mom. That’s not his style.”

He’d never actually thought of his parents and the word love connected until that scare. Then he’d known. His father might not be good showing it, but he loved Clay’s mom. It was plain he’d have been lost without her.

Clay had liked his father a little better after that.

His mouth twisted. A little summed it up. Increasingly, he felt distaste for a man he’d once admired. A man who’d loved his sons and always had time for them while he taught them everything he believed a man should be.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I told you all that.”

“Maybe because it came out all right?” Jane suggested. “Your mom is fine?”

Was that why? He’d wanted to remind her that, yes, scary shit did happen and most often everyone came out safe on the other side?

If so—that was dumb as hell. Jane and he were both in a good position to know how often when things went to shit they stayed that way. Faces flashed through his memory, too many to catch one and stop it—the faces of accident victims, battered wives, kids who did something stupid and paid the ultimate penalty. Murder victims.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

What could he say but “You’re welcome.”

“Have you gone home?”

“Just got here.” He kneaded the back of his neck. “With the Amber Alert out there, a bunch of phone calls came in from people who thought they might have seen Bree. You know how it is. We had to follow up on all of them, but nothing panned out.”

She made a sound that might have been an “oh.”

“Didn’t really expect they would,” he continued, “but you never know.”

“No. Maybe tomorrow. I mean, she can’t have just vanished from the face of the earth.”

Thinking of the miles of empty country around Angel Butte, Clay knew she was wrong. A little girl’s body could go undiscovered for a long time. Even forever. But he wasn’t about to say anything like that to Jane. Didn’t have to, he realized; she knew. But she was trying for hope, too, and that was okay.

“You should get some sleep,” he told her gently. “Don’t wait up for your brother-in-law. You know he’ll call if anything changes.”

“You will, too, won’t you?” she said with sudden urgency. “This is really hard, being on the sidelines. I don’t care if you wake me up. If you hear anything. Anything at all.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I swear.”

“Okay.” There was a pause. “I’m glad you called. Thank you, Clay.”

“You’re welcome,” he said again. “Go on. Hit the sack.”

“You, too.”

They said good-night and his phone went dead. Clay checked to be sure he’d put the milk back in the fridge, then flicked off the overhead light and made his way through the dark to the stairs. He thought he might be able to sleep now. Talking to Jane had...settled him. No real reason, but he felt better knowing she was hanging in there. He liked the softness in her voice when she said his name, too.

He hoped she went to bed before Drew came home wanting to weep on her shoulder.

* * *

JANE WOKE TO the sound of voices down the hall. She grabbed the second pillow and slapped it over her head. She wanted desperately to sink back into sleep. An uninterrupted hour or two. That was all she asked.

But of course it was hopeless. The light slipping through the blinds in this guest bedroom told her it was morning. Anyway, once she was really awake, she was awake.

She dragged herself to the bathroom and groaned at the sight of herself in the mirror. Given that she had no change of clothes, without borrowing something from Lissa—and she shuddered at the very thought—there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about her appearance. She did use the girls’ hairbrush—with a sparkly pink handle, no less—to try to restore order to her wild locks. Her mouth felt gummy, but a brief search of the drawers for a spare toothbrush came up empty. She really had to make it home today to pack that bag.

Drew sat slumped at the kitchen table. Alexis had scraped her chair as close to the corner of the table as she could get it. As close to her daddy as she could get.

“Can I have ’nother waffle, Daddy?” she begged in her piercing little voice. “I think I want jam on this one.”

“What? Oh...sure,” he agreed, voice dragging. He started to push his chair back, and she bounced out of hers to follow him. Drew saw Jane then. “Hey. I’m sorry if we made too much noise.”

He was hardly recognizable. His brown eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Deep lines had somehow carved themselves between his nose and mouth and across his forehead. Jane would have sworn he’d aged ten years in the last twenty-four hours. Twenty years.

Of course, she didn’t look so sharp this morning, either.

“I’ll put her waffle in the toaster,” she offered, having seen the box on the counter. Thank goodness Drew hadn’t felt obligated to make some from scratch, not after the night he must have had. “Did you get any sleep at all?” she asked.

He sank heavily back into the chair. “Couple hours. How about you?”

Jane bent down to hug Alexis. “Your daughter had nightmares.” Lots of nightmares. “But we survived, didn’t we, pumpkin?”

“Uh-huh. I didn’t want to be alone last night.” Alexis and Bree had their own bedrooms now, but they’d shared a room until about a year ago. “So finally I went to bed with Auntie Jane.”

Drew gave her a wry smile. “Lucky Auntie Jane.”

“She said she couldn’t sleep, either.” Alexis followed Jane. “I can have jam, right?”

“You bet. Can I have some of those waffles, too?”

The little girl nodded. “But what if they’re all gone?”

“Then we’ll grocery shop today.”

“Or you’ll eat cereal for breakfast tomorrow,” her father said, giving her an admonitory look.

She looked mulish. “I only like waffles.”

While the waffles toasted, Jane asked what the plan was for today.

“I think I’ll take Alexis to her day camp,” he said.

His daughter let out a wail, threw herself from her chair and ran to him. Her arms clamped around his waist and she buried her face in his torso. “No! I don’t want to go. Don’t make me go, Daddy. Please. I want to be with you.”

The look he cast Jane was so hopeless, she felt an anguished pang.

He smoothed his hand over his daughter’s hair, the same brown as his. “I have to go back to the hospital. And Jane has a job.”

“I can go to the hospital, too, can’t I?” Alexis pleaded. “I’ll be good. Really, really, really good.”