Mystic Park (24 page)

 

 

Alonzo was waiting outside of Leonard's house when the high school mathematics-teacher-cum-football-head-coach pulled onto his driveway late Thursday afternoon. It was poetic justice since Leonard had lain in wait for Doreen when she'd come home from work exactly one week ago today. From his position leaning back against the railing attached to Leonard's house, Alonzo watched the smaller man climb from his car.

“Am I supposed to be intimidated by you, Alonzo?” Leonard slammed shut the driver's side door and circled the trunk of his brown Ford sedan.

“The only reason a person would say that is if he were intimidated.” Alonzo remained still, tracking Leonard's progress with only his gaze. He still wore his sheriff's uniform. His arms were crossed at his chest. His legs were crossed at his ankles.

“Should I be?” Leonard leaned against the passenger side of his car. He set his soft black briefcase on the ground beside him.

“Yes.”

Leonard's neighbors were either still at work, still at school, or in their houses. The picturesque street was deserted this final week of May. Alonzo had known it would be. He'd driven past Leonard's house a couple of times in the past week while he figured out how he would deal with this wannabe rival for Doreen's affections.

“Are you threatening me, Sheriff?”

“I'm educating you, Leo. But don't worry. There are just two simple lessons. Lesson one: stay away from my house.”

“It's a public street.”

“Lesson two: stay away from my woman.”

Leonard narrowed his eyes. “Does Doreen know you're here?”

“See, that's the thing, Leo.” Alonzo kept his voice nice and easy despite the inferno of fury burning inside him. “Nothing about Doreen is any of your concern. So there's no reason for you to think about her beyond the fact that she's your mayor.” And he knew just how much Leonard loved that, considering he'd tried to prevent her from being elected.

Leonard held Alonzo's gaze in silence for several seconds. “Whatever you're hiding must be cataclysmic for you to try to get me to forget that I'd once had an intimate relationship with the woman you think you're going to marry.”

“And you must be pretty desperate to make up stories about me.” Alonzo straightened from the rail and approached Leonard. The other man stiffened as though anticipating an attack. Alonzo hoped it would never come to that. He hadn't gotten into law enforcement for the violence. And he'd had more than enough of it over the years.

Alonzo stopped an arm's length from Leonard. He wasn't stupid. He straightened to his full height, which was considerably taller than the other man. “Lesson one: stay away from my house. Lesson two: stay away from my woman.” Alonzo stepped back and tipped his hat. “Have a nice night.”

He turned and walked away without a backward glance. Alonzo had parked his car around the corner so he wouldn't tip off Leonard. It was a lot to go through just to get some guy to leave his fiancée alone. But love made you stupid. Real stupid.

Speaking of stupid, now that he'd dealt with Leonard, how was he going to mend the busted bridge between him and Doreen?

“How was your day?” Two afternoons later, Alonzo greeted Doreen at their front door with a kiss and a glass of lemonade.

“Fine. Thanks.” Doreen accepted both before moving farther into their home. She'd finished a Saturday at Books & Bakery, and a quick visit with Ms. Helen and Benita.

“Is something wrong?” Alonzo locked the front door as he watched her walk away from him. She seemed preoccupied.

“I'm just tired.” Her voice carried to him as she disappeared into the kitchen.

Alonzo winced. That was the same excuse he'd given her for the past two and a half months. What was it they said about payback? It was true. He sought her out in the kitchen. Doreen stood at the counter, pouring herself more lemonade. She replaced the pitcher in the refrigerator.

“Doreen, could we talk?”

“I'd welcome it.” She crossed to the circular ash wood table and sank onto a chair. “What would you like to talk about: canceling our wedding, my moving out of your house, or your threatening Leo?”

I should have known the gutless wonder would go running to Doreen.
Alonzo closed his eyes briefly. Some people learn best through repetition.

He squared his shoulders, then took the chair on the other side of the table from her. “After I say my piece, you can decide which of those things you want to discuss first.”

A cautious expression settled into her brown eyes. “All right.”

This is what dread feels like.
His muscles had seized. His heart had stopped. His tongue lay like cement in his mouth. Alonzo still didn't know where to begin his story. He could only pray that inspiration would guide him. “I fell in love with you in high school, although I didn't know it was love until college. You brought people together. You put a spotlight on issues in the community that needed to be addressed. Every action you took had a positive reaction in Trinity Falls.”

“You give me too much credit.” Doreen raised a hand, palm out. “I didn't do anything alone. A lot of people helped me, including you and Paul.”

“But you were the driving force. You were the one who got us started and kept us going.”

“That's debatable, but it's not what we're talking about right now.”

“All right.” Alonzo stood and crossed the kitchen. “I went into law enforcement because I wanted to have a positive impact on the community, too. But it didn't work out the way I'd hoped.”

“What happened?” Her voice invited his confidences.

Alonzo hesitated. His gaze was on the view outside his kitchen window. But in his mind, he saw his old beat in Miami. “Instead of helping to build a community, in the course of my career, I've taken lives.”

Doreen gasped. “Alonzo, how?”

He kept his back to her. He couldn't bear to see her rejection when he told her the truth. “One of the victims was an abusive ex-husband, holding his ex-wife and three-year-old daughter hostage. The second was a bank robber. The third was a home invader. After that, I decided to leave the big city to become a small town sheriff's deputy.”

His tension built to almost screaming proportion as he waited for Doreen's reaction. Was this where their story ended for good? Why would someone like her—someone who creates and builds—want anything to do with a man who had blood on his hands? Would they remain friends at least? Or wouldn't she want any part of him?

“Alonzo, I'm so sorry.” Her hand settled gently on his shoulder.

He started. He hadn't heard her move. “So am I.” Alonzo turned to her. “The memories of the lives I took are always with me. Always. But the recent police shootings have made them even harder to contain.”

Doreen shook her head fiercely. “Those killings weren't anything like your experiences. You didn't kill unarmed people under questionable circumstances. You shot armed and violent offenders who were directly endangering you and other people.”

“It was still murder.” Alonzo turned from her.

“What would have happened to the woman and child who were being held hostage by her ex-husband?”

“He was threatening to kill his daughter if his wife didn't leave with him.” Sometimes with the memory came the fear and tension from that scene. Alonzo clenched his fist to keep the feelings from building.

Doreen squeezed his shoulder. “How many customers were in the bank when the robber struck?”

“Nine employees and ten customers.” Through the grace of God, no one else had been killed or injured. But he imagined the danger had taken an emotional toll on all of them.

“What about the home invasion?”

He understood her questions, but reliving these memories was hard on him.

“It was a family of six.” Alonzo paused as images from that day raced across his mind's eye. “The parents were in their midthirties. They had three children, ages ten, seven, and three. The wife's mother lived with them.”

Why is she rubbing my back?
Alonzo had expected that Doreen would have started packing by now.

“Alonzo, you're in law enforcement.”

“That's not a license to kill.”

“No, it isn't.” Doreen's voice was patient. “It's a directive to protect and to serve. You had to draw your gun to protect that mother and her baby daughter, the employees and customers in that bank, and that family.”

“I often wonder if there had been another choice.” He'd never spoken that uncertainty aloud.

Doreen stopped rubbing his back. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him from behind. Hard. “I'm so sorry you had those experiences. But, Alonzo, I don't think you had another choice. A lot of lives were at stake.”

She's hugging me.
Alonzo barely heard Doreen's words. He was too stunned. Instead of turning away from him, Doreen was literally embracing him. Did this mean she was willing to accept all of him, including his past?

Alonzo turned in her embrace. “This is the reason I've been so distant. I was afraid that, once you learned what I did, you wouldn't want to marry me.”

Doreen's eyes filled with sadness and confusion. “Alonzo, I know what you do for a living. I don't like to think about the danger you've been in or the images you must have seen. But I'm not naive.”

Alonzo was weak with relief. He leaned back against the counter. “You're not canceling the wedding?”

“No, I'm not canceling our wedding, although you've been a real pain in the neck.” Doreen rose on her toes to give him a quick kiss. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“And we'll spend those years making only happy memories.”

“That's a promise.” Doreen sealed it with a kiss.

CHAPTER 29

Benita followed Vaughn into his apartment Friday evening. In eight days,
Mystic Park
would take the stage. It would be the show's debut performance. But if Benita's negotiations worked, it wouldn't be its last. This seemed like the best time to tell Vaughn about Tommy Poole's offer, when she had other good news to share as well. But Benita didn't know what to tell him about first: the L.A. theater producer or her buying Doreen's house.

“How was your class?” She lowered herself onto the sofa, watching while he settled beside her.

“Something tells me you didn't come here to ask about my music class.” Vaughn gave her a curious smile. “What's going on?”

“You're right.” Benita held both hands up, palms out. A huge smile stretched her lips. “Great news. I found a theater producer in L.A. who's interested in performing
Mystic Park
.”

Vaughn didn't respond. He returned her gaze as though she were talking a foreign language. Several seconds ticked by. Finally, Benita spoke again. “Did you hear me?”

“I don't think I did.” Vaughn sounded so serious. His eyes were cool and distant. “Did you send my musical to a producer in Los Angeles?”

Benita's smile wavered. “Yes, and he's very interested in it. Very interested.”

“But why would you have sent it to a producer in Los Angeles when I specifically asked you not to do that?” Vaughn's voice was tight with control.

“
Mystic Park
is a fantastic musical. It deserves to be seen in additional venues.” Benita felt her first stirring of unease.

“Son of a—” Vaughn surged off his sofa and paced across the room to the fireplace. “You're a piece of work, Benny.”

“Vaughn, an
L.A.
producer wants to produce
your
musical. Doesn't that mean anything to you?” She thought he'd at least be flattered by the producer's interest.

“I'm producing my musical on my own. Why should I care what this guy thinks?”

“For one thing, it's additional validation of your work.” Benita smoothed her right eyebrow. She was becoming impatient. “A lot of people would be flattered.”

“I know what you're doing.” Vaughn pinned her with a cold gaze. “It's not going to work.”

“Vaughn, I—”

“You thought I'd be so impressed and flattered by this L.A. hotshot's approval that I'd change my mind about leaving Trinity Falls, didn't you?” His voice shook with temper.

“I didn't send your play to an L.A. producer to convince you to move.”
Why is he so angry?

“You're lying.” Vaughn swept his hand in the air as he paced to his bay window on the other side of the room.

Benita stiffened. That was uncalled for. “No, I'm not.”

“This is what you've been planning all along. How could I not have seen it?” He paced away from his window and started toward his fireplace. “You wanted to help me with
Mystic Park
as part of your plan to convince me to move to Los Angeles with you.”

“I did consider that at first.” Benita crossed her arms and legs, uncomfortable with the truth of his accusation. “But I don't feel that way now.”

“You hounded me to send my proposal to a producer once you found out I'd completed the musical.”

“Only because your talent deserves a broader audience.”
Stubborn man.

“And when I wouldn't send it out, you offered to do it for me.”

“Because it's a great script and a wonderful score.”

“I told you not to send it, but you went behind my back and did it anyway.”

“Vaughn, I'm proud of what you've done and I admire your talent. I may have started out to—”

“I can't believe your audacity.” Vaughn dragged a hand over his clean-shaven head. “Don't you think I'm qualified to make my own decisions?”

“Of course I do.” Benita wanted to stand, but she didn't believe her shaky legs would support her.

“Then why did you disregard my wishes?”

Benita spread her arms. “I wanted to help you.”

“For Pete's sake. You wanted to help me?” Vaughn stared at her as though he'd never seen her before. “This is why we can't be together.”

Benita gasped. His words were like knives in her heart. “How can you say that?”

“You think you know everything. No one else's opinion matters. You're the great Benita Hawkins and you know what's best for everyone.”

Benita surged to her feet. Enough was enough. “I chose that L.A. producer because I knew he'd be interested in your story and open to a musical. So that was calculated on my part.”

“It's always about you—”

“Listen to me!” Benita set her hands on her hips. “Initially, I did hope this producer's interest would convince you that you had greater opportunities in L.A. But the fact of the matter is, Vaughn, you don't have to live in L.A. for your musical to be performed there. But
Mystic Park
deserves to be seen in other markets: New York, L.A., San Francisco, Chicago, Kalamazoo.”

“Whether
Mystic Park
is seen in other venues is my decision, not yours.” Vaughn stopped pacing to glare at her. “And I've finally realized I can't be with someone who's constantly making decisions for me.”

“You're right. I'm sorry I overstepped my boundaries.” As Benita collected her purse all thoughts of Doreen's house—now her house—had flown from her head. She hurried toward the door before the tears fell. “I'll tell the producer you're not interested.”

Benita let herself out of Vaughn's apartment and jogged to her car parked in front of his garage. If she hadn't believed their relationship was done before, she believed it now. He'd been so angry. She hadn't thought he'd be that angry.

She deactivated her car alarm, which unlocked her doors. With shaking hands, she let herself into her Acura and collapsed behind the steering wheel. She'd wanted to help him. Instead her actions had pushed him away for good. Their relationship was over, forever over. How ironic, now that she'd finally moved back to Trinity Falls.

 

 

“Are you lost?” Ramona spoke from her reclining position on the sofa in the center of the rental cabin's great room.

Quincy locked the front door behind him and strode to where Ramona lay on the couch reading a home decorating magazine. It was the first Saturday afternoon in June. Ramona hadn't spoken to him in more than two weeks.

During that time, Quincy had accepted sanctuary with Megan and Ean. They'd been great hosts, but it was time for him to reestablish his place with Ramona. The first week, Quincy had given Ramona her space. But the second week, he'd called and stopped by every day. She'd frozen him out. He was growing increasingly concerned that she would never let him back in. He couldn't allow that to happen.

“Enough is enough, Ramona.” Quincy stopped beside the sofa. “I didn't come home to spend the time apart from you.”

Ramona turned a page in her magazine. Her attention was glued to its glossy paper. “We're still not even. Your not spending time with me isn't the same as my finding out you're making plans to stay in Trinity Falls without me.”

“You
want
to move back to Trinity Falls.” That much he'd put together from the stingy words she'd given him over the past fifteen days.

Ramona looked up from her magazine and pinned him with her ebony stare. “That's not the point.”

“Then what is the point? Explain it to me.” Their disagreement had gone on for two weeks too long. It needed to end today. He wanted his Ramona back. He missed her too much.

Ramona closed her magazine. She sat up, swinging her long, bare legs over the side of the couch. She was wearing a white crop top and short purple shorts. Her hair hung loose and tousled around her shoulders.

She shifted on the sofa to face him. “You made me believe that you thought I was more than a decoration.”

Quincy frowned. “Of course I do.”

“Then why are you treating me like one?”

Quincy's eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Ramona drew her fingers through her luxurious raven hair. She seemed weary and frustrated. “Instead of coming to me so that we could decide together where we're going to live, you decided on your own as though I don't have the intellect to contribute to the discussion.”

“That's not what I was doing.” Quincy was shocked at her interpretation of the situation. “I wanted to have a plan to offer you.”

“We're a couple. We should've figured it out together.” Ramona's sigh was thick with confusion. “Instead, you decided you needed to be the man with a plan.”

Quincy risked sitting an arm's length from Ramona on the sofa. “I'm sorry, Ramona. I thought I was helping by coming up with a solution on my own.”

“Suppose we didn't have the same solution?” She shrugged. “I want to come home to Trinity Falls. But what if I didn't?”

“Then I'd need another solution.”

She arched a brow. “Another one you came up with by yourself?”

“No, we'd figure it out together, you and me.”

Ramona inclined her head. “Make sure you always remember that.”

“I promise I will. I'm sorry I upset you. It was never my intention.” He searched her eyes, hoping she believed him.

“I understand. Just don't make that mistake again, please.” Ramona started to rise from the couch.

Quincy caught her arm. “There's one more matter I need your input on. It's just a question.”

Ramona sat again. Her ebony eyes were bright with curiosity. “What is it?”

Quincy pulled the ring box from his front cargo shorts pocket. He opened it, holding the case toward her. “Will you marry me?”

Ramona gaped. She stared, motionless, at the princess cut, nine-carat diamond as though it would do a song-and-dance routine for her.

Finally, she threw herself into his arms. “Doctor Quincy Spates, you're a fast learner.”

Quincy's smile was unsure. “Is that a yes?”

Ramona's laugh was buoyant and free, like a rushing brook. “Yes, you ridiculous man. I'll marry you.” She leaned back in his embrace. “I love you so much. And I love the way you love me.”

Quincy's heart swelled in his chest. “You've just made me the happiest man of the century. I love you, Ramona McCloud. Forever and always.”

 

 

“She's not coming. I can't believe Ginny's not coming.” Vaughn sounded on the verge of hyperventilating.

It was six-thirty on
Mystic Park
's opening night, June thirteenth. Curtain call was seven
P.M
. Cast members and stagehands had been asked to arrive backstage by five-thirty
P.M
. As five-thirty became six o'clock and six o'clock had grown to six-thirty, the volunteers had accepted that Ginny Carp, their play's immensely talented but grossly unreliable female lead, wasn't coming.

Benita had ignored the furtive glances cast in her direction. It was apparent that the cast and crew expected her to replace Ginny for tonight's performance just as she had each time Ginny had been late or missed rehearsal altogether. However, the knots reproducing in her stomach were sending another message.

“The stagehand came back a few minutes ago.” Benita stood beside Vaughn as they looked out over the audience, each willing Ginny to appear; better late than never. “He said no one answered the door and it didn't look as though anyone had been home.”

They hadn't stood this close or spoken as many words to each other in more than a week, not since Benita had told Vaughn about the theater producer who was interested in his play.

“Do you think she's on her way?” Vaughn checked his watch.

“No, and neither do you.” Benita checked her wristwatch as well. They were running out of time. Guests were beginning to arrive. Darius escorted Peyton and Ms. Helen into the auditorium. Jackson and Audra followed them in. Benita was going to be sick. She could only imagine how anxious Vaughn felt. “She's still not answering her phone, either.”

“I can't believe she's not going to show for the performance.”

“I warned you she was erratic. She keyed Darius's car, for heaven's sake.” Benita crossed her arms. She felt her heart thundering against her chest. “Do you remember when I suggested we get understudies?”

Now probably wasn't the best time to remind Vaughn of the road not traveled. But she really hated being put in this position.

Vaughn turned to her, his expression desperate. “Yes, I remember.”

“I hate when I'm right.”

“So do I.” He glanced over the audience again before facing Benita.

“I know what you're going to say.” She glared at him, more from fear than anger.

“I don't have any right to ask you.”

“No, you don't.”

“But I am asking, Benny. Will you fill in for Ginny one more time?”

“This isn't a rehearsal. It's the actual performance. There are people watching.” Benita's muscles were tight with panic. A sharp pain in her temple signaled a tension headache was building.

“I know you're not comfortable performing. But you're a natural and you have a beautiful singing voice.”

Vaughn was laying it on pretty thick. She was still angry with him. His accusations about her contacting the L.A. producer were ugly and uncalled for. But as angry as she felt, she still couldn't bring herself to destroy his opening night. Tonight was the realization of his dream. A lot of other people also had worked hard and made great sacrifices to get to this night. She couldn't let any of them down.