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“Poor thing,” he murmured, knowing from the dog’s stiff gait it wasn’t accustomed to staying outside for long periods of time. Caroline had probably let the dog out while she went with Charlie, figuring she’d only be gone for about an hour.
Colin pulled his slicker over his head and climbed out of the vehicle, narrowly missing a puddle that looked as if the Loch Ness monster could easily take a few laps in, and reached behind his seat for the control pole he’d borrowed from the animal control officer.
He walked slowly, offering soothing words of welcome until the old girl sniffed his hand and then gave him a warm lick with her tongue. Smoothing her damp fur, he started to slip the nylon loop around her neck but thought better of it. This dog was no Cujo, that was for sure.
“We don’t need this, do we, girl?”
She licked her chops and stared up at him expectantly. She was probably wondering where her master was, and if her dinner was coming, Colin realized.
“She’s on her way,” he said, feeling only slightly ridiculous for trying to make a dog feel better.
Suddenly his radio crackled to life.
“SR4, ten-nineteen.”
Return to station?
“This is SR4, ten-four.” Holstering his radio, he made quick work of getting the dog settled in the vehicle and jumped in himself.
Once inside, he switched to his Nextel for privacy.
“Hey, Joe, this is Colin. What’s going on?” he asked the dispatcher.
“Sorry, Colin, but Danni was hauled in while you were heading out to the Walker place. Thought you’d want to know right away.”
As soon as he heard his daughter’s name he felt a flush travel up his neck that was surely a result of his blood pressure hitting the ceiling. He bit back an oath, needing a moment before he was able to speak again without clenching his teeth. “I’m on my way.”
Twenty minutes later he was sliding his ID card into the back door of the police station, silently fuming. It had taken every ounce of training he possessed not to speed down the snow-covered streets of the quiet town as he drove to pick up his only child. This was becoming an all-too frequent occurrence and he didn’t know what to do about it.
“Hey, Col.” Joe Boland waved and gestured toward the holding cell. But before he could enter, Joe stopped him, his face grave. “They had to book her this time. I’m sorry.”
Colin pressed his lips together but nodded in understanding. “With what?”
“Possession,” he answered. When Colin swore and shook his head, Joe tried lessening the blow. “It was just a bit of weed—a misdemeanor—but she’s going to have to go to court. I think Marty’s already processed the citation, you can probably take her home.”
Colin thanked Joe for his help. This wasn’t the first time Danni had been caught hanging with a group of kids with a shady reputation, but the officers had let her off with a warning. This time, Colin knew, she’d gone too far. He couldn’t expect his buddies to keep covering for her. It wasn’t right. The law was the law.
A sense of loss filled him as he pushed open the holding cell door. Where was his little girl? And was she ever coming back?
Colin’s heart contracted at the sight of Danni slumped in the metal-backed chair, chewing at the cuticle on her index finger as she stared glumly at the dull metal table. She looked up as he entered the room, her expression changing quickly to the picture of defiance but not before he saw the relief in her eyes. Colin ignored the pain that lanced through him and made a curt gesture for them to leave. “Let’s go. You’re supposed to be at your Aunt Sara’s. She’s probably worried sick.”
“Yeah, right.” Danni shoved away from the table, the legs scraping against the old tile floor, as she shouldered her backpack and stalked past Colin with more attitude than an MTV diva on concert night.
“An attitude like that won’t land you anywhere but more trouble, young lady,” he said to her back as they walked out of the station and into the biting cold. He hit the automatic door lock on his key ring and both locks popped up in unison. “You’re in enough trouble as it is. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you out there? The weather alone made it dangerous, never mind the company you’ve recently taken up with. And what about your homework? Or the fact that you have school tomorrow?”
“Whatever.” Danni jerked the door open and slid in, noticing after she took her seat that there was a dog in the back. Startled, she dropped her scowl long enough to give him a questioning look. “What’s with the dog?”
“The shelter’s closed and, as you can tell, there’s a bad storm. I didn’t want her to freeze to death,” he answered, amazed he was able to keep from yelling. He was so mad he was shaking.
“How sweet,” she said, reverting back to the sour-faced teen that he’d found sitting at the station. She gave the dog a long look then wrinkled her nose. “It smells like wet dog in here.”
“And you smell like cigarettes and stale beer,” he returned. “Frankly, I think I prefer the smell of the dog.”
The black look he received was completely out of place on the face of his thirteen-year-old daughter and made him wish that he could turn back time—to change what had gone so horribly wrong between them.
But he couldn’t and because of that he could feel her slipping further and further away from him with each sullen glare, each angry exchange. Lately, she seemed to hate him.
They drove home in silence, the endless swish of the wipers the only sound between them. Colin risked a glance at his daughter as she leaned against the window frame, her cheek resting against the cool glass. Her profile, so much like her mother’s, made him ache. Danielle had been classically beautiful, yet her delicate features could not have hinted at the vulnerability hiding in her fragile mind. Years ago, geneticists had warned him that Danielle may have handed down her condition to their only daughter. Colin swallowed against the lump that had risen in his throat. All he could do was hope that Danni had dodged that bullet.
Putting the SUV into Park, he turned to tell Danni to go straight to bed, but she hadn’t waited for instruction. She was already out of the truck and stomping her way through the snow to the front door. By the time Colin made it to the house she was already ensconced in her bedroom with the door closed firmly behind her.
“Well, girl,” he said to the dog, which to his best guess looked to be some kind of yellow lab cross, her face nearly white with age. “It’s just you and me. How about something to eat?”
The dog looked up at him with big brown eyes that were sweet and trusting and he found himself hoping that Erin McNulty didn’t flake on the poor thing. He didn’t know her from Adam but she made it pretty clear that coming home to Granite Hills was as appealing as having a nail pounded into her foot. He went to the fridge and pulled out some ground beef he’d planned to make into burgers tomorrow and crumbled some into a bowl for the dog. He’d hate to have to put her into the shelter. By the way she moved, stiff and slow, it looked as if she had some level of hip dysplasia. If the McNulty woman pulled a no-show and he had to check her into the shelter, the odds were slim that she’d find a home. He wasn’t a bleeding heart, by any means, but he didn’t like the thought of putting the old girl down.
“It ain’t steak but it’s better than nothing,” he murmured, giving the dog a gentle pat on the head as she bent down to eat what was offered. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. At least someone would go to bed happy. His gaze strayed to his daughter’s closed door, knowing that he was, no doubt, playing center stage as the villain in his little girl’s dreams, and his brief moment of satisfaction evaporated. After placing a bowl of water on the kitchen floor, he retired to the small room he’d converted to an office, wishing he could sleep but knowing that he couldn’t. Despite the late hour, he sighed as he picked up the phone and made a quick call to his sister so that she wouldn’t worry. With Sara’s husband in Iraq and a six-month-old to care for, she certainly didn’t need the grief Danni was dishing out on a daily basis to everyone she felt had betrayed her.
A box of chamomile tea sat unopened on his desk, part of a care package his mother had sent. He wasn’t much interested in it, but his mother swore by chamomile when things looked rough. She said it had a soothing touch. He eyed the box without much hope. He knew what he needed wasn’t in that box but at this point he was starting to feel a little desperate.
God, he missed his parents. They’d bought a condo in Florida last year in search of warmer climates. With her arthritis getting worse each year, Ma said she couldn’t take the winters here anymore. They were coming back for the summer, but it just wasn’t the same without them. Although his sisters lived close by, they were busy with their own lives and he hated to bother them with the problems he was having with Danni. Turning to face the large bay window, he watched as Mother Nature did her level best to ensure that Granite Hills was buried under a soft layer of snow come morning. Colin thought of the McNulty woman and wondered if her flight would be delayed due to the weather.
He closed his eyes to relieve the burning behind them and briefly thought about giving that damn tea a shot. He needed sleep but he knew that if he went to bed he’d just end up tossing and turning, punching his pillow in frustration or staring at the ceiling. He was only thirty-six but he felt one hundred. The last few weeks with Danni had been hell.
And he blamed himself. He should’ve told Danni the truth a long time ago but he’d chickened out. Now, the secret was out and his daughter hated him for it.
A seemingly innocuous slip of paper, he mused bitterly, had driven a wedge between him and his only child.
How many times since that afternoon had he wished he’d burned it the moment it’d been put in his hands? A dozen, a hundred, a million? Countless. But he hadn’t. Like an idiot he’d put it in his file cabinet and forgotten about it.
Until he came home one day three weeks ago to find Danni standing in his office, holding it in her hand, her eyes full of wounded disbelief, demanding an answer.
“What is this!” Danni had screeched, tears streaming down her cheeks, jerking the paper away just as he’d reached for it—no, grabbed at it—in horror. “You lied! You said she died in a car accident when I was a baby but she didn’t!” She thrust the document at him, the broken-hearted look reflecting back at him nearly sent him to his knees apologizing. “This says she died five years ago—” her voice dropped and wavered, suddenly sounding much younger “—of a drug overdose.”
He’d tried grasping the death certificate she’d waved under his nose but she’d jerked it away, scanning it as if it would somehow reveal the truth to her as he had not.
“Danni, you don’t understand…it’s complicated,” Colin tried explaining, but Danni wasn’t interested in the reasons. “I was going to tell you when you got older, but the time never seemed right…I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”
“But you lied,” Danni wailed, the tears falling unchecked to splash down the front of her shirt in wet splotches. “All that time… I could have known her. I wanted to know her! You didn’t have the right!”
The rise in Danni’s voice bordered on hysteria, reminding him of Danielle for a split second and panic fueled his reaction. “Like hell I didn’t!” he roared, his hands curling in his vehemence. His heart thundered in his chest and he fought for control but it was too late.
Face pale and lower lip trembling, Danni pulled away when he tried reaching for her and fled the room.
The echoed slam of her bedroom door reverberated in his memory. Lately, the sound of a slamming door was just about the only communication between them. Colin understood her rage, the sense of betrayal, but he’d had no choice.
He stared grimly at the gently falling snow out his bay window. That saying “the road to hell was paved with good intentions” could be tattooed across his forehead. His intentions had been good. He’d wanted to tell Danni the truth when she were older. Old enough to handle it. Instead, fate had different plans and here he was up to his eyeballs in misery because of it.
Colin dropped his head into his hands and drew a painful breath. The fact of the matter was it had been easier to tell Danni that her mama had died from a car accident than a drug overdose. And it sure was a lot easier than telling his little girl that her mother had tried to kill her.
CHAPTER FOUR
TEN HOURS LATER, after hopping a red-eye, Erin’s plane was touching down in Ironwood at the Gogebic-Iron County Airport on time, despite the storm that had the snow-removing equipment busy on the runway between flights. She rubbed at her eyes, blaming the constant burn she felt on the lack of sleep due to two lengthy layovers, one in Denver the other in Chicago. She tried not to think of the fact that she was actually returning to the place that she’d gratefully said goodbye to long ago.
For a dog.
Not just any dog, her conscience whispered. Caroline’s dog. Her breath hitched in her throat and she forced herself to ignore the pain in her heart and the fatigue that dragged on her heels. Let’s just get this over with, she thought, winding her woolen scarf around her face as she prepared to leave the warmth of the crowded terminal to find the Chevy Tahoe she’d reserved.
Although Erin wasn’t religious, she sent a prayer skyward as she got in the SUV that the cop was true to his word and Butterscotch was not frozen to her aunt’s porch.
Caroline had gotten the dog right after Erin had left, saying the house was too empty without her, and Erin had been glad that she did. It made her feel less guilty for practically abandoning her the way she did. A sudden prick at the back of her nose warned of impending tears and she sniffed them back. A part of her was screaming turn around, go back, but somehow, she kept on course and an hour later she was pulling into Granite Hills, a surreal fog surrounding her senses as she drove past landmarks that seemed locked in time.
Nothing had changed.
When she left fourteen years ago, the place where her heart should have been felt filled with broken shards of glass that cut and scratched each time she breathed; today, it felt much the same. Except, this time she wouldn’t have Caroline’s soothing voice to get her through the rough spots.
The weather forced her to drive slowly but her foot itched to press the gas pedal harder, if only to escape the flood of memories that were already pushing at her mind.
Dulcich Hardware—the only place in town to buy nails, paint and plumbing supplies.
Gottaleri’s Pizza—her first real job.
The Granite Hills Tribune—the only newspaper in town worth reading and the first place she’d nervously look after Charlie went on a binge, hoping—no, praying—that he wasn’t listed in the cop log.
Erin swallowed and purposefully dragged her gaze away from the shops lining the main street, grateful for the anonymity of the rental car. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that she could escape without someone recognizing her but if she could prolong it, she certainly would.
Going by memory, she turned down a side street and headed for the police station. Moments later, she was there. Aside from subtle changes to the building, it looked the same. Charlie had spent many a night sleeping off a drunk in one of the three holding facilities. She’d gone with Caroline—once when she was too young to realize what was going on—to pick him up. Her nose twitched at the memory of whiskey on his breath and she clamped down on a wave of nausea.
To this day, the smell of alcohol made her skittish.
Two officers sharply clad in blue uniforms erupted from the side door reserved for employees and Erin’s heart leapt into her mouth. She waited for them to climb into their squad car before exiting her own vehicle. She’d been crazy to board that plane. She should’ve listened to her instincts and refused to come.
But, she hadn’t. So, quit whining and get it over with.
The sooner she found a home for the dog, made arrangements for the…funeral…
Suddenly her chest felt tight and it hurt to breathe. Funeral. She’d have to make arrangements for her aunt’s funeral. She squeezed her eyes shut and tersely ordered the tears to stop. Now was not the time to start blubbering. She was being brutal with herself but she didn’t have a choice. She blinked to clear her vision and then opened the front door. First things first…
COLIN GLANCED UP AT the wall clock and wondered what time the woman’s plane was scheduled to arrive. He’d thought she would have called to let him know, but she hadn’t so he was left to guess. He thought of Charlie McNulty, laying broken and battered, in the hospital ICU, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had caused such animosity between father and daughter. His thoughts shifted to his relationship with Danni and a cold chill entered his heart. What if Danni never forgave him? Was he doomed to spend the next few years chasing after an angry teen, only to lose her forever when she finally moved away?
This morning he’d tried to talk to her about the events of last night, but Danni had stonewalled him, choosing instead to chew her oatmeal in silence. Only occasionally did her gaze stray to the dog that had commandeered a spot by the fireplace.
As a last-ditch effort, he tried offering to give her a ride to school, but all he received in response was a withering stare, which told him that she’d rather freeze to death than spend more than five minutes in his company.
How much longer was she going to punish him for trying to protect her? Surely, she couldn’t hold it against him for the rest of their lives? He grimaced at the sour feeling lodged in his gut. Of course, she could. And at this point, it was probably exactly what she planned on doing.
Ah, hell…
Realizing that he’d been staring at the same piece of paperwork for the last ten minutes, he was almost relieved when the dispatcher called his name over the paging system.
“Officer Barrett to the front desk. Officer Barrett to the front desk.”
Dropping the paper in his in-tray, he went to answer his page.
He peered through the window in the lobby door and saw a tall, lithe woman with a startling contrast between skin so pale it looked almost translucent and shoulder-length, jet-black hair. She removed a pair of stylish glasses, and quickly folded them into a case while she waited. Erin McNulty. There was no doubt in his mind. For someone who grew up in Granite Hills, she couldn’t look more foreign to her surroundings. She had big city written all over her, from the black cashmere scarf wound around her neck to the leather gloves she was pulling from her fingertips as she glanced around in an impatient gesture. He shook his head at the realization that she was nothing like he’d expected, though, to be honest, he hadn’t thought he’d be so off the mark. In this case, it seemed the apple had catapulted from the proverbial tree and landed somewhere on another continent.
Pushing open the door, he found himself staring into a pair of blue eyes that were almost unreal in their brilliance. He nearly said something stupid but, fortunately, he caught himself in time. The woman’s family was in shambles. The last thing she needed was some yahoo babbling about the color of her eyes.
“You must be Erin McNulty,” he said, extending his hand with professional courtesy, which she accepted with a nod. “I’m sorry to meet under such circumstances,” he said, watching as she made a concentrated effort to hold back tears. “I knew Caroline from her volunteer work at the Winter Festival. She could make a mean cup of cocoa.”
Her head jerked in a nod. “She said the secret was using fresh cream instead of milk.” Her voice was husky with emotion. “Makes it smooth as silk and twice as fattening.”
“Twice as good in my book,” he countered, wondering when she’d last eaten a good meal. She was so skinny he could almost count her ribs through the turtleneck sweater she wore.
“Yes, that’s what people said,” she added, offering a brief smile that was clearly for his benefit before drawing a deep, halting breath. “But then again, there wasn’t much that Caroline couldn’t make taste good,” she murmured, dropping her gaze in an attempt to hide the sudden glistening in her eyes. A rueful smile touched her lips. “She was always trying to get me in the kitchen, one way or another. I tried telling her I didn’t inherit her talents but she wouldn’t listen and invariably, every Christmas I’d get the newest Betty Crocker cookbook in the mail. I have everything from Crock-pot Creations to DeliciousDesserts and I’ve never cracked open a one. But she never quit trying.…” She frowned as if embarrassed at her personal comments to a total stranger.
“It’s okay—”
“I’m sorry—” she cut in tightly, shaking her head before clearing her throat. “My aunt’s dog…were you able to go get her last night?”
“Yes,” he answered, feeling oddly guilty for catching a glimpse of her personal pain when she had no desire to share such intimate details about herself. There was a brittle quality to her rigidly held composure, like someone whose hold on the fabric of life as she’d known it was slipping as it tore in two.
“Have you gone to see your father yet?” he asked, the question springing from his lips without conscious thought.
An iron curtain slammed behind her eyes and he had his answer. Disappointment welled in his chest but he couldn’t explain why. If the woman had no interest in seeing her father before he died, it was none of his business. Sure, it seemed heartless, but why should he care? His utmost concern was relieving his home of the dog that had seemed quite comfortable this morning laying beside his hearth. “Your dog is at my house. If you want to follow me I’ll take you to her.”
“She’s not my dog,” she corrected him.
“She is now.”
She conceded that small point, adding, “Well, only until I can find a suitable home for her. My life isn’t conducive to pets.”
He knew she worked for a magazine but he wasn’t sure in what capacity. Before he could ask, she answered what must’ve been the question in his eyes.
“I’m a photographer. I travel. A lot.”
“That’s right, American Photographic,” he said, recalling how difficult it had been tracking her down. “Real nice magazine.”
She accepted his compliment with a reluctant smile and he was struck by how she looked every inch the part of a sophisticated traveler. She could probably navigate a crowded airport terminal with ease and sleep just as comfortably in a hotel bed as her own. In her world, the word home was probably a relative term. He couldn’t imagine a life like that. “So, how long are you staying?”
She seemed startled by his question and she fumbled a little, causing a momentary break in her carefully held composure. “N-not long,” she answered, quickly regaining her equilibrium. “Um…the dog?”
In other words: Butt out of my business.
“I’ll get my coat,” he answered, prickling just a little at her subtle hint to back off, yet at the same time reluctantly intrigued by the questions that came to mind when he considered her attitude toward her father. He was smart enough to know that it was foolish to draw parallels between his problems with Danni and the damaged relationship Erin had with her father. The situations were likely not the same but he couldn’t help but wonder if there would ever come a time when Danni would refuse to see him at his darkest hour. The pain that went straight to his heart almost made him make a plea for Charlie’s case, but a quick reminder that it was none of his business kept him from making a fool out of himself.
Five minutes later Colin was pulling into his driveway while Erin’s sleek, black rented Tahoe came to a stop directly behind him. The storm had kicked up again, sending flurries of snow drifting to the ground, making him wonder whether or not Danni had remembered to take her woolen hat when she stomped off to school this morning. Probably not, which was why he decided at that moment, despite the glares he’d no doubt receive, to pick her up after school.
“Dog’s pretty easygoing,” he called over his shoulder as he trudged his way through the freshly fallen snow to his front door. “She might be a little hungry, though. I gave her some hamburger to tide her over.” He unlocked the door and waited for Erin to catch up. “She also seems to have some sort of hip dysplasia. You might want to have a vet check that out.”
