Finding Fire (5 page)

He spotted Sarah sitting with Janie Kovak,
his partner's wife. They sat, heads together, engrossed in
conversation. He scanned the crowd and located his partner, tossing
a baseball with his kids.

"Sorry I'm late," Randy said when he
approached Sarah and Janie. With admirable restraint, he restricted
his kiss to Sarah's upturned cheek. He set his paper plate heaped
with corn, potato salad, baked beans and two burgers on the table
beside her. "Group of high school kids thought it would be cool to
have an impromptu beer party by the river."

The smile Sarah flashed turned his insides
to jelly. And other parts the opposite.

"Not a problem," she said. "Janie has been
filling me in on some of your older cases."

"Really?" he said. "And what kind of lies
have you been telling my wife?" Wife. Eighteen months now, and he
still felt that bong in his chest when he said the word.

"Nothing but good stuff. I swear." Janie
held her fingers up in a Scout salute.

"I hope so. You know, one word from me and
the chief will have your husband demoted to checking parking
meters." He straightened. "I'm going to get a drink. Anyone want
anything?"

"I wouldn't mind a beer, as long as you're
going," Janie said. She reached for her purse.

Randy waved it away. "My treat. One beer,
coming up. Sarah?" He motioned to her half-empty cup. "You want
another?"

She shook her head and gave him another
smile. "No, thanks. I'm good."

Randy picked up her plastic cup for a quick
sip before he left. Halfway to his mouth, he realized there were
too many bubbles for it to be beer. He sniffed. Ginger ale. He set
the cup down and glanced at the plate in front of her, barely
picked at. "You sure? You feeling all right?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Really. A little
tired. A beer would put me right out."

He looked at her more carefully. "Getting
enough sleep?" He could usually tell if she was keeping something
from him. She hated it when she had nightmares and flashbacks to
her kidnapping. And hated it more when he tried to coddle her. For
now, he'd let it ride.

She rolled her eyes. "I said I'm okay. Now
go get the drinks before your dinner gets cold."

Randy hustled to the table that served as a
bar, grateful that he was finally off duty and could relax for the
rest of the night. "Two beers," he said to the young man behind the
table.

Randy watched as the band members strolled
across the tennis courts to a temporary platform and picked up
their instruments. He nodded to the bass player. He knew the
keyboard player as well. Should be good music. He looked forward to
dancing. An involuntary grin erupted as he thought about holding
Sarah—something he hadn't done in far too long.

The bartender pulled two bottles from a tub
of ice and set them on the table. "That'll be five dollars."

"Last year we each got two free ones," Randy
said.

"I've heard that a lot, sir. Guess they
didn't get the donations they'd hoped for this time around."

More cutbacks. "Never mind. It's still cheap
enough." He paid for the drinks, dropped a dollar into the tip jar
and took the beers to the table.

He smirked as he handed
Janie a bottle. "If I'd known I really had to
buy
the beer, I might not have
offered."

"Sure you would. I know too many of your
secrets." She smirked right back. "Like the time you had to use
pantyhose to secure a perp."

Randy pretended to glower. "You're not
threatening me, are you? I've known your husband since he was a
green rookie. I've got plenty of stories, too."

"I'd like to hear that one," Sarah said. She
grinned at Randy. "Pantyhose? Not yours, I'm guessing."

Randy shot Janie a good-natured scowl.

"I think I'll leave that story to Randy,"
Janie said. "I don't think parking meter detail would go over
well."

"Smart woman." Randy sat down and dug into
his dinner. "Not bad." He grabbed an uneaten deviled egg from
Sarah's plate. "Didn't realize how hungry I was."

"You miss lunch again?" Sarah asked.

He stopped eating long enough to answer. "I
guess I did. Hadn't really thought about it until now. It's been
busy." He reached over and squeezed Sarah's hand, enjoying the soft
warmth of her fingers and the way her rings dug into his palm.

Janie glanced toward the field. "Looks like
my husband has his hands full with the kids. I should him a hand."
She picked up her beer and grinned at the two of them. "I can tell
I'm not needed here."

Sarah sat in silence as Randy scraped the
last few baked beans from his plate and licked his fingers. The
band was running through a set of Eagles tunes. Randy took a swig
of his beer and set the bottle on the table. He wiped his hands on
his napkin and stood. "Dance with me?"

She held his hand as they meandered to the
tennis court. The band played "Peaceful Easy Feeling" and she moved
as though she was a part of him. God, did he love the smell of her
hair. "I've missed you. It's like we've been in separate
cities."

"Well, I
was
out of town for
three days on a buying trip, or don't you remember?"

He laughed. "Of course I remember. But it
didn't really seem any different. You've gone to work before I get
home, and I'm gone when you get home. And even when I should have
been home, something always came up. Damn cutbacks and double
shifts."

"I understand. I knew that was part of the
territory when I married you. No need to apologize."

"I'm not apologizing. Just missing you." He
leaned down and nuzzled her hair. "Well, now I've got forty-eight
hours off, and I'm spending every damn minute of them with
you."

The music segued into "Desperado" and they
swayed to the slower tempo. He pressed her against him. "We haven't
had much time to talk, either," he said. "Anything you want to tell
me?"

"Right now, I just want to feel you hold me.
I think I miss that the most. Waking up at night knowing you're
there. Being able to reach over and touch you."

He thought of the times he'd awakened and
found her holding on to one of his fingers as she slept. Or her
foot pressed against his leg. He leaned away so he could study her
face. "Tell me the truth. Have you been having flashbacks again?
Nightmares?"

"A couple," she admitted. "But a little
Mahjongg, some chamomile tea, my relaxation exercises, and I'm
fine. Honest. Never lost more than an hour's sleep."

"Which means three hours," Randy said. "No
secrets. We're here for each other."

"Two episodes in three weeks is hardly worth
mentioning."

"It's worth mentioning to me."

"From what I've learned at counseling, these
things can go on for years. Maybe forever. I refuse to let them
rule my life. You need to understand that."

He sighed and hugged her close. "I do. I
just don't like to see you suffer, especially when I can't be there
to help."

"Well, you can be there for the next two
days. The shop is closed tomorrow, and I've got it covered all day
Monday."

"Count on it."

The tempo changed as the band played "Take
it to the Limit." Randy led Sarah in an easy waltz, absorbing the
feel of her body against his. As the song drew to a close, he spun
her in a series of pivot turns. He would have dipped her, too, but
for the sudden panic in her eyes. Most of the color drained from
her face, and a thin film of sweat glistened. "You all right?"

Hand over her mouth, she shook her head.
Randy wrapped his arm around her waist and rushed her to a clump of
bushes out of sight of the court. He held her hair out of her face
as she emptied her stomach.

She looked up at him, a sheepish expression
on her face, and accepted the handkerchief he offered. "Sorry," she
said. "Got a little dizzy with that spin. Shouldn't have eaten that
second hot dog."

Randy took her by the hand and walked her to
his pickup, lifting her onto the seat. He reached for his water
bottle and unscrewed the cap. "Flashbacks?" Ignoring his question,
she sipped her drink. Her blue eyes caught his.

He felt like he'd been kicked in the head.
God, how had he missed it? "I think maybe there's more."

"Maybe." She studied her lap.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Why didn't you ask?"

"Don't you go doing that answer a question
with a question bit." He crooked his fingers under her chin and
lifted her face so her gaze met his. "But maybe I didn't want to
get my hopes up. And I trusted you to tell me. So I blocked out the
clues. Or chalked them up to flashbacks."

"Clues?"

"I am a detective, you know. It's what I
do.  Look at things and put two and two together."

"Two and two."

"But sometimes you're afraid of being wrong,
so you ignore them. And then you get one of those
right-between-the-eyes clues and everything falls into place."

"Between the eyes?"

"Would you stop repeating everything I say,
dammit? Clues. The ginger tea in the mug by your bed. Three boxes
of saltines in the cabinet. Ginger ale tonight instead of a beer.
Coming home and the toilet seat is up. With all the grief you give
me when I don't put it down, I don't know why it didn't register."
He stopped to take a breath. Sarah looked at him, a solemn
expression on her face.

"Go on," she said.

"And then there's the obvious one. But then,
I haven't been around, haven't really been paying attention. And,
since you've been off the pill, you're not regular anyway. That
could have been from flashback stress, too. So, I kept my mouth
shut because of your damn stubborn pride. When were you going to
say something?"

"Well, Mr. Hot Shot Detective, what about
the drugstore bag on the bathroom counter?" Her stone blue eyes
sparkled, and he noticed the tiniest upturn at the corner of her
mouth.

He realized he'd been shouting. Not because
he was mad at her, but at himself. He kissed Sarah's forehead and
softened his tone. "I haven't been to the house today. I was late,
came here straight from work. What's in the bag?"

"You're the detective. You tell me."

For the first time, he admitted to himself
that it might be real. His heart thumped. He grabbed her off the
seat and hugged her.

"I wasn't trying to keep secrets," Sarah
said. "I wanted to be sure. You seemed so disappointed the time I
was four days late. I thought we should do it together."

"You think this is it?" His voice was a
rough croak.

"The test isn't a hundred per cent accurate,
but I'm willing to put money on it. I'd hate to feel this lousy for
nothing."

"I love you, Sarah. I am so sorry I yelled.
I was worried, and mad, and disappointed, and—"

"Shh. I love you, too, Randy. Now, how about
you take me home and we can check this out. Together."

Randy set her onto the seat. "On our
way."

"Good. Do you think you might break the
rules just this once and run with lights and sirens? I really need
to pee."

He burst into laughter. "Just this
once."

*****

Sarah dashed up the steps and shifted from
foot to foot while Randy unlocked the door. Unbuttoning her jeans,
she sped to the bathroom. She picked up the bag and removed the
stick, glad now that she'd read the directions and had everything
ready before she left for the picnic.

Finished, her hand trembled, and she set the
stick on a paper towel on the counter. Afraid to look, she washed
her hands and brushed her teeth.

Randy tapped on the door. "Everything
okay?"

"Come in." He rested his hands on her
shoulders, his touch sending a shiver down her spine.

"Well?" he said.

"It says wait at least one full minute.
Maybe as long as ten."

"It's going to be a very long minute, isn't
it?" He bent over and nuzzled the back of her neck. The tickle of
his warm breath made her shudder.

God, she was shaking all over. "All of a
sudden, I'm scared. Maybe you've been right all along. Maybe it's
not fair to bring a kid into this world. All that evil out there,
the economy's going to hell in a hand basket. Did we do the right
thing?"

"Of course we did. You were right, as
always, my sensible Sarah. We can't predict the future. We can only
hope to make it better, and a child might be a way to do that.
Besides, I thought you said you wanted something to remember me
by."

"Don't you talk like that. I said I wanted a
part of you. I want you, too, buster.  Your job puts your life
on the line, but like you said, you could be an accountant and get
run over by a bus. There are no guarantees. Just don't do anything
reckless, or I'll—I'll kill you."

He turned her around. "I love you. Either
way. And we have lots of time ahead of us. A kiss for luck?"

She stood on tiptoe, and he bent down to
meet her lips. She felt that warm glow spreading through her. "Mmm.
Not yet. I think it's time." She let her fingers trickle down his
chest. "My hands are shaking too much. You look."

Randy picked up the stick. "Okay. What am I
looking for?" The stick trembled in his hands. She put her arm
around his waist and leaned into him.

"Anything in the circle?"

"A blue line. Is that good?"

"Yes. Means the test is valid. What's in the
square?" She closed her eyes and held her breath.

"Another blue line." She heard the click as
he set the stick on the counter. "So?"

She exhaled. "So I call the doctor Monday,
Dad."

He spun her around to face him. Tears
glimmered in his eyes. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
She grinned up at him.

"Umm … I think I want to sit down for a
minute," he said. He staggered to the bedroom and sat on the edge
of the bed. "Dad. Oh, God, Sarah. A baby. You."