A Dozen Deadly Roses (7 page)

Seeing him ricochet down the canal awakened the guilt Jade had hidden from herself so well.  If Mac had been killed trying to save the boy in the river, Jade didn’t know how she would explain to Donnie she’d purposely kept his father out of his life.  But what if Mac demanded joint custody?  There was no way she’d turn her son over to someone one beer away from falling off the wagon.

Then there was the psycho who taunted her daily with dead roses.  What if he made good on his wordless threats?  Each day, the box of flowers was delivered with one less rose inside.  When there were no more flowers in the box
something
was going to happen.   What if she were murdered?  Who would take care of Donnie?  Angus was in his seventies.  On a long-term basis, he couldn’t care for her son.

Should she tell Mac about Donnie in case something happened to her?  Why, oh why, had Mac returned?

CHAPTER 4

Back at his house, Mac made a fist, slammed it into his pillow, then collapsed on the newly formed softness.  Minimal relief registered in his body.  Face it Stryker, he thought, it’s too early to be in bed – at least alone.

Mac had thought the best thing for him would be a hot shower and early to bed after the captain sent Jade and him home.  Muted light still peeked around the edges of his bedroom’s blackout blinds.  But, in his heart, Mac knew the problem wasn’t the intruding light from outside, but the events of the day that had him tossing and turning.

Every time he closed his eyes, the petrified face of the little boy losing his grip on the step of the flood control channel sprang to life.  It was just a hop, skip and a jump to imagining that same look of terror on his own daughter’s face seven years ago when an armed gunman had shot her mother, jumped into the family’s SUV, and took off.  Beautiful, precious Ashley.  How confused and scared she must have been. 
Stop it!  Think about how happy that little boy was to be reunited with his mom and dad
.

Mac assaulted the pillow again, and flopped onto his other side.  He groaned as pain shot down his shoulders and arms.  Then both Ashley and Susan’s faces broke into his thoughts.  “Screw it,” he muttered, throwing back the covers.

Leaping out of bed, he stifled a moan.  He hobbled into the kitchen and yanked on the refrigerator door.  Wincing at the glaring light, he opted for some orange juice.

What I wouldn’t give to have some vodka to mix into the juice, he thought, pouring the citrus drink into a highball glass.  Lord!  He hadn’t wanted a drink this much in months.  Just put Ashley and Susan out of your mind, he told himself.  Gulping down the acidic liquid, his stomach gurgled in protest.

“Stop kidding yourself,” he mumbled to his reflection watching him from his toaster.  “You’ve gotten through lots of nights of grieving about your losses without wanting to drink.  Nope, tonight the new factor is Jade Donovan.  You almost got yourself killed jumping into that flood control channel so you could save the kid and prove to Jade and everybody else you’re a good cop.”  Mac shook his head in disgust.  “Mac Stryker, you’re one sick puppy.”

# # #

Having left work early due to the water rescue, Jade arrived at her father’s house just in time for a snack.  Angus and Donnie sat at the kitchen table while Jade explained why she was home early.

Mona brought over a sectioned tray loaded with cheese and crackers, celery sticks stuffed with peanut butter, and green and black olives.

The adults listened solemnly to Jade’s account of the water rescue.  Donnie, oblivious to the drama, placed five black olives on the fingers of his left hand, and five green ones on his right.  He waved his hands with delight.

“We watched the whole thing on TV,” Angus said.  “They interrupted my game show for ‘breaking news.’  I had no idea it was my little girl down there.”

“Goodness, Jade.  I’m still not convinced it’s safe for you to be a police officer,” said Mona.  “It might have been you floundering in that awful water.  How is the little boy?”

“He’ll be fine.  Hopefully he learned his lesson about playing near the flood control channels.”

Angus moved his hand over his face, rubbing a day’s worth of stubble.  “Nah, it’s the same thing every year.  Some kid falls in the water and the taxpayers spend a fortune to get ‘em out.  How’s your partner?  He musta had some kind of ride.”

Jade shuddered with emotion.  “It was horrible.  I didn’t know if I should jump in too.  They were gone so fast.  I’m just so thankful they were rescued.”

“Who was rescued, Mama?  Did the firemen help?  I’m gonna be a fireman when I get big.”

“Good for you, Sweetie.  Now eat up those olives, and we’ll go home.”  Jade grabbed a loaded celery stick and savored the peanut butter sticking to the top of her mouth.

“I can’t, Mama.  Mona and me was baking some cookies.  Can’t you smell them?”

“Donnie, dear,” Mona interjected, “it’s Mona and I, not Mona and me.  And don’t worry about the cookies.  Your grandpa and I will save them so you can have some tomorrow.”

Jade inhaled.  “I was wondering what smelled so good.”

“Ah, lassie, I almost forgot,” Angus said, shuffling to the refrigerator.  “You got a package.”

“Here?” Jade questioned.  Her heart hammered with dread.  “What kind of package?”

“One of the best presents a woman can get,” Mona said, beaming.  “Someone sent you flowers.  You didn’t tell us you had a suitor, Jade.”

“Who delivered them?” she demanded.

“Darlin’ we don’t know.  The box was sittin’ on the porch when I went out to get the mail.  So, who’d be sendin’ my little girl a big shiny box?”

“I, um, I don’t know who would send me flowers.”

“Mama, don’t fib.  You gotted lots of those boxes.”

Jade hurried to Angus and took the box from his hands.  The shaking of her knees made her steps unsteady.  The celery and peanut butter threatened to come back up.  “I’ll just get this out to the truck and come back for Donnie.”

“Don’t you want to open it?” Mona called, as Jade hurried the box toward the door.  “I guess not,” Mona murmured, as Jade exited without a reply.

The outside air felt cool on Jade’s cheeks.  She tried to swallow the panic threatening to erupt as a scream.  The wacko knew where her Dad lived.  Should she tell Angus about the flowers?  No, if the nut had wanted to hurt her family he would have done it today.  He was just trying to scare her.  It was working.

After gathering Donnie’s belongings and putting him in his child seat, they were on their way.  Jade’s attention was fixed on the rear view mirror watching for someone following her.  Don’t be stupid, she told herself.  He already knows where you live.

Even with the rain, it didn’t take them long to get home.  Jade quickly searched the apartment.  She wanted to get Donnie settled.

“Mama, can I watch TV?”

Jade functioned on autopilot.  Her mind raced with the implications of the latest delivery.  “Sure, just don’t have it too loud.”

Jade went to the kitchen and retrieved her gun cleaning kit.  After about fifteen minutes of steady work, she was satisfied her weapon was serviceable and duty ready.

Finally getting a chance to relax, she sat in the recliner, staring blindly at the colorful cartoons her son watched.

I’ve never been a drinker, she thought, but if I were going to imbibe - today would be the day.  First, I had to face the captain, then there’s some nut stalking me, and tomorrow I face Mac Stryker again.

I’ve got to tell Mac about Donnie, but how?  Oh, by the way, partner, I haven’t told you about my son.  He’s almost five and he’s your son, too.  Or, maybe something like, have you ever thought of having a son?  I know just the kid for you.

Jade, you should have tracked Mac down when you found out you were pregnant and told him then, she thought.  You’re an idiot.  No, you’re not.  The man was an alcoholic, and once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.  You know better than anyone else what living with a drunk can to do a child.  You were protecting your son and, Irish pride or not, you need to continue to protect him.  If Mac finds out he’s Donnie’s father he could try to take Donnie away from you.  And that can’t happen.  Angus is sober only because of Mona.  If she leaves, he’ll fail again, he always has.  It’s only a matter of time before Mac fails too.

She closed her eyes and listened to the comforting sound of rain collide with her front window.  She must have dozed off, because suddenly Donnie was standing next to her, tapping her on the knee.

“Mama, can we go to the park?  I want to practice going down the jungle-gym pole, just like the firemans do.”

Jade glanced at her watch.  Four o’clock.  Then she remembered the rain.  “Sweetie, I’m sorry, but it’s too wet and cold outside.”

“Darn,” he said, with a big scowl on his face.

He looks just like Mac, she thought.  Somehow, I’ve got to think of a way to tell Mac that Donnie is his son, but not let him get too involved in Donnie’s life.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said.  “Since we can’t go to the park, why don’t we have a picnic on the floor?  We’ll get out a blanket, and we’ll spread it out.  We can eat off paper plates and I’ll order pizza.  There’s root beer in the refrigerator, and while we wait for the pizza, we could make some cupcakes.  How does that sound?”

The little boy pursed his lips, thinking over the suggestion carefully.  “I guess so.  It’s not as good as going to the park.”

“I know, Sweetie, but you can practice your fireman skills getting ready for the picnic.  You know, to be a firefighter you have to be strong.  Why don’t you see if you can carry the old brown blanket from the linen closet into the living room?”

While Donnie yanked, tugged, and dragged the bulky bedding to the front room, Jade called and ordered a large pizza.

They spread the blanket out and plugged in Donnie’s red and yellow plastic boom box.  He ran to his room to retrieve his favorite cassette recording of children’s songs.

“Mama, are we going to make cupcakes now?”

“You bet, and I’m going to need your help.  Pull over a kitchen chair to the counter.  Did you know that firemen have to learn to cook?”

The little boy shook his head.  “How come?” he asked, climbing on the makeshift footstool.

“They take turns fixing the meals for all the other firemen.  Okay, now pour the chocolate cake-mix into the bowl, and then we’ll turn on the beaters.”

Jade held the boy’s hand onto the mixer handle while the metal whisks whirred.  Donnie giggled with delight.  “My hand tickles,” he said.

Suddenly, there was pounding at the door.  Startled, Jade pulled the beaters out of the bowl, spattering cake-mix throughout the kitchen and flecking them both with the chocolate goo.

Donnie started to cry, but Jade shushed him.  She wiped her hands on a towel and approached the door.  There was a second knock.

It was too soon for the pizza.  Gripping the gun at her waist underneath her sweater, Jade looked through the peephole.  Mac Stryker.  What was he doing here?  She let out the breath she’d been holding, and opened the door about a foot.  His tall frame looked especially large in the heavy sheepskin jacket he wore.  Both the coat and his black jeans were dotted with wet spots from the rain.  Black cowboys boots kept his feet dry.  Ugly purple bruises and numerous scratches marked his face.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you at home, but I needed to talk to you.”  She saw his eyes scrutinize her face.

She was going to say something about his injuries, but opened the door wider to allow him to enter.  Then she saw it.  A long, gold foil box secured with a red ribbon.  His eyes followed her gaze.

“This was next to your door,” he said.

She slapped herself on the forehead.  “Stupid me, I brought it home from my dad’s and forgot it outside.” 

“Can I open it?” Donnie cried.

“No,” Jade blurted louder than she intended.  “Let me get you cleaned up, then I want you to play in your room.”

The little boy’s lower lip began to quiver.  “But what about our picnic?” he whined.

Jade moved to the kitchen, grabbed a dishrag and began blotting chocolate batter from her son’s face and clothing.  “We’ll have our picnic, but Mommy needs to talk to this man.  Be a good boy now.  Go play in your room.”

Donnie stomped to his room looking over his shoulder at Mac, a scowl fixed on his face.

“Cute kid, but I don’t think he likes me.  How come you’ve never mentioned him?”

She needed to take Mac’s mind off Donnie.  Jade knew she’d have to tell Mac about his son eventually, but she needed time to figure out the best way to do it.  She took the shiny box from his hands.  “What is it you want?  You shouldn’t be here.”

In answer, Mac leaned close and extended his hand to her face.  Jade’s heart went into overdrive as he took his index finger and caressed her cheek.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

He pulled his hand away and she saw a thickened brown substance on the tip of his finger.  He stuck his finger in his mouth and slowly slid it out again.  His finger was clean.

“Mmmmm, delicious.  That’s my favorite,” he said, as his eyes moved over her body.  “Chocolate is a good color on you.”

Jade felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment, realizing he was teasing her about the fact she was speckled with batter from the mixing bowl. 
Did he see how her pulse was racing from his touch?

“Let me just get this mess cleaned up.”  Turning away from him she went to the kitchen and pushed the gleaming box she was holding on top of her refrigerator.  Then she dabbed at the remnants of cake batter on her face.  When she was satisfied she had gotten most of it, she turned to him.

“How do you know where I live?”

“The phone list in the Watch Commander’s office,” he answered easily.

She leaned against the sink.  “So, why are you here?”

His expression grew serious.  “I need to talk to you about what happened today.  I need you to understand why I had to jump in after the boy.”

“Look, Mac, it doesn’t matter.  The captain said nothing would go in your personnel file.  It worked out.”