It Isn't Cheating if He's Dead (26 page)

Let them stare. Nothing mattered today.
Nothing except Joe.

“First we’ll get you some new clothes and
shoes. Then a barber shop. Sound good?” Jem squeezed Joe’s arm.

“You don’t need to. I can go to the shelter
for a shower and a cut. And clothes too.”

“Nonsense. You’re going home to your
daughter. We’re going to spiff you up. Make the best first impression on Emma
possible.”

“I don’t know if I can ever repay you.”

“No need, Joe.” Finn’s voice, that sound Jem
used to think of as crisp and tight, now resonated like a tenor saxophone
playing a heroic ballad. “This is all on us.”

Joe tucked his hands in the front pockets
of his jeans and looked at his feet. “All right. I’m in your hands." He
glanced up at Finn, his cheeks pink. "But no suits. I’m not a shirt-and-tie
kind of guy.”

Finn laughed. “Understood.”

They stopped in men’s stores and jeans
stores. In Brooks Brothers, Joe settled on leather wing tips and tried on a
pair of black boat shoes. Jem turned away when he paced the aisle, staring down
at his feet. At least he hadn’t chosen a lilac corduroy sport coat. The
resemblance to Gerald might have pushed her over the edge.

When they walked out of the shoe store, a
young mother sat on a chair feeding an infant. She cooed at the baby and kissed
its head. Joe slowed and stared at the child. Tears wetted his cheeks.

By the time they made their way to the
barber shop, Joe and Finn were laden with bags. Joe wore a new golf shirt,
jeans and sneakers. His old clothes were left at Banana Republic. The sales
clerk had picked them up with just two fingers and slid them into a bag, her
face contorted in disgust. She tied a knot in the bag and tossed it in a
garbage can, then bestowed a steely glare on them.

Joe got a close shave and a haircut, topped
off with a head massage that put him to sleep in the chair. Jem sat and waited,
her hand held firmly in Finn’s, her gaze never leaving Joe’s reflection in the
mirror. He was serene. At peace. For the first time since she’d met him.

The barber removed the towel from Joe’s
neck with a snap. Joe woke with a start and jumped out of the chair, his eyes
darting around the shop.

Jem went to stand but Finn held her in
place. “Let him figure it out.”

Joe found Jem’s gaze and relaxed. She
breathed a deep sigh, and winked at him.

Finn loaded all of the bags into the back
of the van and slid the cargo door open.  Joe climbed in and Finn slipped into
the passenger seat.

“Joe, you’ve got some options for tonight.”
Jem glanced in the rear view mirror. Between sandwiches and Oh! Henry’s and
Joe’s new look, he was almost unrecognizable. A thinner version of the picture
in the missing person’s file.

“I can stay at the shelter.”

“Sorry,” Finn said. “That’s not one of
them.”

“Why not?”

“Well for one, you no longer look the
part.” Jem smiled at him in the mirror. “And you’d get rolled for your new
shoes.”

Joe laughed. It wasn’t hesitant or quiet.
It was all out.

Finn twisted around in the seat. “We can
set you up in a hotel. You could order room service, take a long bath, watch
some television.”

“That sounds nice.”

Finn nodded. “Or you can come back to our
place, do all those same things, except we’ll cook you dinner.”

A small smile crept onto Jem’s face. ‘Our
place.’ That had a nice ring to it.

“I don’t want to put you out. Not any more
than I already have.”

“One thing none of this is doing,” Jem
said, “is putting us out. You pick.”

“If it’s not too much, I would love to not
be alone anymore.”

Finn reached back and slapped Joe’s knee.
“Home it is.”

he hates me

Finn carried the bags from their shopping
spree into the house and showed Joe to the spare bedroom. He entered the
kitchen alone a few minutes later.

Jem was wrist-deep inside a chicken,
stuffing whole garlic cloves, quartered onion, and lemon into the cavity.
“Where’s Joe?”

“He looked exhausted. I suggested he take a
shower and a nap.”

“Good idea. Dinner will be a couple of
hours anyway.”

Finn picked up the chef’s knife and started
cutting carrots into julienne strings. “Do you think he’d let me give him a
suitcase? He has nothing to carry his new things home in.”

She looked up at him. “I’m sure he’d
appreciate that. I know I do.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“For you being about the nicest person I’ve
ever met. And for me being the luckiest woman on earth.”

He grinned, his eyes on the carrots and the
knife. “Well, gee. Thanks.”

“When I get this chicken in the oven, we
should make some flight arrangements for tomorrow afternoon.”

“And I’m going to call in and take the next
couple of days off. This isn’t exactly official business.”

“I’m glad you’re coming.” She smashed a
garlic clove and tucked it under the chicken skin alongside fresh sage leaves,
then rubbed oil on the bird. “If it hadn’t been for you, he’d have never
learned about Emma. He’d have rotted in that park, alone.”

“That's all because of you. Take the
credit, Jem. You did this.”

“Can I tell you something?” She put the
roasting pan into the oven.

“Anything. Anytime.”

“I contacted the
Association in Defense
of the Wrongly Convicted
. They’re like the
Innocence Project
.” She
tapped the faucet with her wrist and warm water sprung from the chrome.

“I know who they are. I’ve worked with them
in the past, from a police standpoint.”

“Of course, sorry. Anyway, I’m going to
take on local cases they identify. Pro bono.” She dried her hands on a dish
towel.

“Sounds perfect. And if you ever need a
detective, I know this guy —”

“Yeah, I think I know him too.” She took
the knife from his hand and set it on the counter, then wrapped her arms around
him and stared up at his face. “I love you, Detective Finn Wight.”

“And I love you, Jemima Stone, Attorney at
Law.”

Jem rapped on the spare bedroom door with one
knuckle. “Joe? Dinner is ready. Do you want to join us, or sleep some more?”

There was movement inside the room and then
the door opened. Joe’s short hair was kinked on the right side, his face
creased from being smooshed into the pillowcase.

She smiled. “Good nap?”

He rubbed one eye with a balled up fist. “Great.”

“You hungry?”

“Starved. It smells wonderful. I’ll be
right out.” He closed the door.

In the kitchen, Finn had set the table for
three and decanted a bottle of wine. He glanced up from setting salt and pepper
shakers on the table when she entered. “I’m thinking that he should call Bill.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. Give the guy a heads-up that he’s
coming home. Better than showing up on the doorstep unannounced.”

“I guess. What if he decides to bolt?” Jem
picked up a carrot stick and snapped a bite off between her teeth.

“I don’t think he will. It’s obvious he’s
got Emma’s best interests at heart. But maybe he needs some counseling too.”

She nodded. “Hm,” she said while she
chewed.

“Do you always do formal sit-down dinners?”
Joe stood behind Finn, a new golf shirt tucked into crisp khakis, his hair damp
and smooth.

“Only for special occasions.” Finn patted
Joe on the shoulder.

Joe pulled out the chair at the one end of
the table and motioned for Jem to sit.

“Why thank you, kind sir. Two gentlemen in
the same room. I could get used to this.”

Joe smiled. “Better not. I think one is
enough, and I can’t wait to get home.” He sat to her right.

She smiled.

Finn sat at the other end of the table and passed
the chicken to Joe. The dishes made their way around and they all filled their
plates. They ate in near silence except for polite requests to pass the salt
and gravy. Joe piled seconds onto his plate and then drenched a piece of bread
in gravy and gobbled that up.

When Finn stood to clear the plates, Joe
stood too. “Let me?”

“I’ll take the assist any time. How about
you clear the food dishes and I’ll get dessert. You like apple pie and ice
cream?”

“Are you kidding me?” Joe placed dishes
next to the sink and sat back down. He wiped a tear from his cheek and stared
out the window to the front yard below. “Emma used to bake pie every weekend.
Apple was my favourite. She did the crumble topping.”

“Well, that’s what my favourite bakery
does.” Finn placed a piece at Joe’s elbow and handed one to Jem. Then he topped
up everyone’s wine and sat with his own piece.

Joe ate every bite.

Finn pushed his pie plate away. “Wow, that
was great.” He wiped his mouth on a linen napkin and turned to Joe. “We’ve got
flights booked for tomorrow afternoon.”

“We?”

Jem patted Joe’s hand. “We’re coming with
you.”

Tears welled in his eyes. “Thank you. I
can’t express my gratitude. For everything you’ve done.”

“Just keep in touch, okay?”

“I promise.”

Jem gathered the dessert plates and placed
them on the counter next to the sink. She looked at Finn, raised one eyebrow
and jerked her head towards Joe.

Finn nodded. “Joe, perhaps you should call
Bill tonight. To let him know that you’re coming.”

“That’s going to be hard. I bet he hates
me.”

“He is angry. Or he has been. But he
deserves a heads up after all he’s done for Emma.”

“Yes. Of course.” Joe folded his napkin,
then shook it open and folded it again. He looked at Jem. “Will you be on the
call too?”

“Sure. We can do it on speaker if you’d
like.”

His posture relaxed. “Thanks."

With dinner dishes done and another glass
of wine under their belts, the three of them sat at the table.

“Ready?” Jem looked at Joe.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Finn punched Bill’s phone number into the
wireless handset and pressed the speaker button. After four rings, the phone
clicked and then a clattering came through the receiver.

“Hello?” Bill’s voice sounded tired. A baby
cried in the background.

Tears filled Joe’s eyes. He leaned closer
to the phone.

Finn cleared his throat. “Mr. Engles, this
is Detective Wight and Ms. Stone calling. We have Joe here. Will you speak with
him?”

“Joe?” Bill’s voice cracked. “Joe, are you
really there?”

“Hi Bill. It’s me. Is that Emma crying?”

“Yeah. I dropped the phone and woke her up.
She’s fine.”

“She sounds fine. Healthy.” Joe put his
palms together in front of his face briefly. “I hear you’ve done a good job
taking care of her. I can’t thank you enough for that.” He wiped his wet
cheeks.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Jem touched Joe’s arm. “Mr. Engles, it’s
Jem Stone here. We’ll be in Regina tomorrow afternoon. I plan to file a motion
to have your custody revoked and to revert full parental control of Emma to
Joe.”

“You don’t need to. I’ll withdraw it. Just
come home, man. We’ll be here waiting.”

is the
honeymoon over?

Sid closed the office door behind Joe,
leaving Finn and Jem in the waiting room with their coffees.

Jem sat on the leather sofa, patted the
seat next to her and sipped at her to-go cup. Finn settled in beside her and
put his arm around her shoulder. She leaned her head against him.

“You done good.” He kissed her forehead.

“We done good.” She tilted her head up and
kissed him, a gentle, lingering touch of lips.

“Man, too bad we weren’t somewhere more
private.” He squeezed her shoulder. “You realize we haven’t made love in three
days?”

“Uh-oh. Is the honeymoon over?”

“Never.” He took her coffee and placed it
on the table in front of them, wrapped his arms around her, and dipped his head
towards hers.

She ran one hand over his hair then rested
it on the back of his neck. They shared a long, slow kiss.

Minutes later, Sid’s voice neared the other
side of the door. Jem and Finn released their embrace. She ran a hand through
her hair to tame it and tugged her shirt down.

Joe and Sid exited the office, Sid in the
lead. “He’ll see you on Monday.” Sid handed Joe a business card. “He’s offered
ten sessions at no cost. You’ll like him. He’ll help.”

Jem stood. “Who will help?”

Joe handed her the card.

“He’s a colleague in Regina. He agreed to
counsel Joe.”