Tough Customer (43 page)

"About six months into this self-inflicted purgatory, I went on a screwing spree. See, the self-blame phase had worn off, and the I'll-show-her one had set in. So I went on a sex binge. After months of one-night stands, all I'd proved was how much I loved your mother.

"One morning I woke up and realized I'd never get her back if I stayed on that rail, so I switched. I turned over a new leaf. I cleaned up my act and began trying to salvage my job, which I was on the brink of losing. The cigarettes I was hooked on, but I went cold turkey on women. I lived like a freaking monk." He stopped, and the lines in his face settled heavily into an expression of abject sorrow.

Berry asked softly, "The reform didn't last?"

"Not past the day Caroline's marriage to Jim Malone was announced."

"You read it in the newspaper?"

"Yeah. Came like a bolt out of the blue. Shows how cruel Fate can be. I had no idea she'd even been seeing him. Not that way, I mean. And then there it was in black and white. She was married to him."

Berry could tell by the ragged sound of his voice that, even after all this time, it hurt.

He sat for a moment, staring into near space, then said, "Through lawyers we settled on Malone adopting you and giving you his name. I caved on that without really putting up a fight. I had nothing to offer. You had a new daddy who seemed a decent sort, who would give you a good life, one I couldn't come close to providing." He paused a beat, then said, "I left, and never went back."

After a time, his gaze refocused on her. "That's it, Berry. Not a very pretty bedtime story for a man to be telling his daughter, is it? Not exactly Goldilocks."

"It's a sad story. Particularly for you."

"I didn't tell you so you'd feel sorry for me. Last thing I want you to do is make me out as some kind of woebegone hero, a tragic figure. I made bad choices and paid for them. The only reason I told you is so maybe you'll take a life lesson from it. That's the best I can do for you. God knows I haven't done anything else."

They exchanged a long look, which was interrupted only when Dodge's cell phone rang. He pulled it from his belt and checked the number calling. "It's Caroline." He answered, listened, then said, "Okay, we'll be right there."

When he disconnected, he told Berry that Caroline and Ski had finished their business at the sheriff's office. "That Mercury cretin got his check. She says Ski needs to stay there. Everybody wants him for something. Caroline asked if we could pick her up."

Berry grabbed her handbag and slid from the booth. "You can drop me at the hospital."

"Wrong. I'm taking you home. No argument," he said sternly, cutting off her protest. "Like it or not, I'm your old man, and I'm telling you now that you're going home and getting some rest."

On the drive out to the lake house, Dodge watched his daughter in the rearview mirror. Her expression blank, she stared through the window into the night without making a movement or a sound. He would have given a thousand dollars to know what she was thinking. About him? About Starks? About her lost job? Maybe she was just pining after Ski. Who the hell knew?

Whatever was on her mind, he wanted to help her with it. But this parenting thing was tough even when your child was an adult. Possibly it was even more difficult because Berry was an adult. He'd put his foot down about her standing vigil over a felon who was already brain-dead. But after that, he couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound stupid, banal, unnecessary, or a combination of all three, so he hadn't said anything. Caroline must have been of the same mind, because she was subdued when they picked her up at the courthouse and remained silent for the duration of the drive.

Once inside the house, he followed them upstairs. When they reached the gallery, the two women went one way, he went the other. He showered in the bathroom where it all had started. He even turned down the bed. But he couldn't rest until he knew Berry was okay, so he put on fresh clothes and went back downstairs to wait for Caroline to come down.

He'd been waiting almost an hour when he heard her light tread on the stairs. She didn't notice him sitting there in the dark living room as she passed it on the way to her bedroom.

He gave her a couple of minutes, then went to the door and tapped softly. "It's me."

When she opened the door, he could tell by her expression that she immediately assumed another tragedy had befallen them. "What now?"

"Nothing's wrong. Before I cashed in for the night, I just wanted to make sure that Berry's okay. She looked pretty ragged."

Caroline motioned him into the room and closed the door behind him. He looked around. It wasn't a fussy room, but it was totally feminine all the same. There were an unnecessary number of pillows piled against the iron headboard of her bed, and gathered fabric framed the three windows. The walls were painted what looked to him like the same color of pale yellow that he'd painted Berry's nursery all those years ago. Most everything else in the room was white, including the terry-cloth robe wrapped around Caroline's slender body.

"Berry's exhausted," she said. "Upset."

"Over? Not Starks, I hope. He's getting what he deserves. Unless he dies peacefully, in which case he's getting better than he deserves."

"As cruel as that sounds, I agree. He continues to torment Berry even as he's dying. She's carrying the burden for everything that happened."

"Know what I think?" Dodge said. "I think Starks played her like a fiddle. He kept her feeling sorry for him."

"I'm sure of it," Caroline said. "He's a manipulator."

Dodge went across to one of the windows and looked out across the back of the property, at the dark forest, the swimming pool and terrace, the lake beyond. It was a pleasing view. The moon was sparkling on the water that gently lapped the lakeshore. The reserve deputies had been withdrawn, returning the landscape to serenity.

Thinking out loud, he said, "I still don't get why he went into that frigging swamp. Ski's confounded by it, too."

"I suppose we'll never know. I'm just glad he's where he is now."

"I'll feel better when he's in the ground," Dodge said with feeling.

He gave the rear of the property one final, searching survey, then turned back in to the room. Caroline had sat down on the end of the bed. He hesitated, then said, "Berry and I talked." He backed up to an upholstered chair and sat down. "Over cheeseburgers, while you and Ski were dealing with Mercury."

"She figured it out."

"I don't think it took her too long."

"What did you tell her?"

"Everything. The whole ugly truth."

"You didn't have to, Dodge."

"Yeah, I did. Not for her, but for me. I needed her to know everything."

"Why?"

"First off, so she would never blame you for splitting us up. Not that she would ever have a mind to, but I wanted to ensure she wouldn't. Secondly, so that whatever she feels for me is grounded in the cold, hard facts, not some fantasy daddy. I didn't want her view of me to be romanticized.

"By telling her the truth, I took a risk on her despising me. But maybe she'll see some redemption in my not trying to pass myself off as anything other than what I was. What I
am.
I hope she'll at least give me credit for being honest."

"I believe she will. She's always been fair. She's not one to hold grudges, either. Besides, she's told me she likes you. She thinks you're cute."

He guffawed.

"In a scruffy sort of way."

"See, that's what I'm talking about," he said crossly. "She's seeing me better than I am." He looked at Caroline and, for the millionth time, felt a shark's bite of regret. "Not you, though. You saw me for exactly what I was."

"And loved you anyway."

A long silence stretched between them. Neither moved or looked away. Eventually she said, "You didn't knock on my door only to talk about Berry."

Dodge took a deep breath and expelled it, looked aside, and then came back. "I never told you I was sorry, Caroline. Talking about it tonight brought back to me..." He stopped, sighed. "As soon as it was done, it was too late to make it right. Fucking Crystal was the least of it. I know that sounds like a cliche, but I swear to God, it meant nothing. I went through it mechanically, the whole time planning what I was going to do as soon as it was over.

"I didn't betray you with my dick. I betrayed you with my ego. Nothing I said then, or say now, will make any difference. I did it. But I want you to know how sorry I am about it all. When you told me I'd hurt you worse than Roger Campton had, I hated what I'd done. Hated myself for doing it to you and destroying what we had." He paused, took another soughing breath. "I've wanted to say this to you for thirty years. I'm sorry for the pain I caused you."

Her chest stuttered a little when she inhaled. "Apology accepted."

"Thank you." Before he made an utter fool of himself, he slapped the tops of his thighs and stood up. "I'm beat. I can't even remember this morning."

"You came into our hotel room in Houston and woke us up."

"That was today?"

"It's been a long one. But at least Oren Starks was caught. We can rest without worrying over our daughter's safety." As he made to move past her, she reached for his hand and pressed her fingers around his. "Thank you, Dodge."

"I didn't do all that much."

"You answered my call for help."

"I'm glad you asked for it."

"You were the first, the only, person I thought to ask."

A moment ticked by, then another. She didn't release his hand. Instead, she studied the back of it and traced the ropy veins with her fingertip. Then slowly she turned it over, raised it to her lips, and pressed a kiss into his palm. She held his hand against her mouth for a long time, then looked up at him with eyes he could drown in.

"All these years," she said huskily, "and you're still so familiar to me. I would know this hand out of every other hand in the world."

He just looked at her, not daring to move, or to believe that this was really happening.

"You've had a lot of women since me. Two wives. And many others."

He made a motion with his shoulder.

"Do you..."

"What?"

"Do you remember anything about me?"

Gruffly, he said, "Only everything."

She smiled with uncertainty and a trace of sadness. "I'm not young and lithe anymore."

He'd restrained himself for as long as he could, for as long as he was willing to. He pulled her up and clutched her to him. No hug had ever been tighter. He rubbed his face in her hair and poured out the words he thought he'd never have another chance to say.

"You're the only thing I ever loved. God knows." Placing his finger beneath her chin, he tilted her head up. "I made such a goddamn mess of it, Caroline, but I wanted you the minute I saw you, and that's never changed."

She lay across his chest, her cheek pressed against his heart, his chin propped on the top of her head. "You're quiet," she whispered.

"I'm old. You wore me out."

She nudged his crotch with her knee. "You're a stud."

"You think?"

She came up on her elbow to look into his face. "Um-hmm." He smiled, and she smiled back. She ran her finger across his chin, her eyes moving lovingly over his face. "Until tonight, you hadn't told me you were sorry. And, until now, I never thanked you."

"Thanked me?"

"For Berry."

His throat grew tight. He combed his fingers up through her hair. "Yeah, you have. Every time you look at her, I can see how much you love her. That's thanking me, Caroline."

They kissed. She was the first to pull back. "When are you going to tell me?"

He kept his expression blank. "Tell you what?"

"What's on your mind."

"On my mind? Right now, you. You naked. What a turn-on your freckles are. I'm especially fond of the ones on your tits."

She laughed but wasn't dissuaded by his joking. "You're not going to tell me?"

"Nothing to tell."

She searched his eyes for a moment, then murmured, "Okay," and returned her head to his chest. Except for a few whispered endearments, their conversation ended there. Occasionally Dodge would say something coarse that caused her to sigh, laugh, or blush. Or they used no words to express what they were feeling, and that was the most meaningful communication of all.

Finally she nuzzled his throat and mumbled sleepily, "I don't want this to end, but I can't hold my eyes open any longer."

He kissed her lips softly, then turned her away from him, pulling her hips up against his lap. "I know you like to spoon."

"And I know what you like." She drew his hand to her breast and covered it with her own. "They're not as pert as they were."

"Pert is overrated. Now sleep."

She did, falling quickly under. Dodge lay awake for a long while. He was bone tired, but, like Caroline, he didn't want to miss a nanosecond of this night together. He wouldn't waste a moment of it sleeping when he could be holding her, feeling her soft warmth, and listening to every dear breath she took.

And then there was that other thing, that niggling discontent that she had sensed in him, that unidentified something that lurked unseen at the back of his mind, gnawing at his subconscious like an insidious rodent, denying him physical repleteness and making peace of mind impossible.

In spite of her emotional turmoil, Berry had slept deeply and dreamlessly. However, she woke up at sunrise. She showered, dressed, and went downstairs to make coffee. Just as it finished brewing, Dodge joined her, looking sheepish and defensive at the same time. She looked past him toward the direction from which he had come--her mother's bedroom.

She curbed the temptation to tease him and instead offered him a cup of the fresh coffee. "Thanks." He added two spoonfuls of sugar, sipped, then said, "That bracelet with the heart charm. Tell me about it."