Mystic Park (4 page)

The two men sat in Alonzo's office Wednesday morning drinking coffee. Juan sat in one of the gray visitor's chairs on the other side of his desk. He'd worked with the younger man for three years, since he'd been elected sheriff. In that time, they'd become friends.

“Is this your April Fool's joke? It's not funny.” Juan cradled his white coffee mug against his torso.

“It's not April Fool's Day.” It was only Wednesday, March twenty-fifth. The muscles twisting in Alonzo's gut eased as he thought of his retirement. “And I'm not joking. I'm serious.”

“I can't believe you're planning to retire. Are you sure?”

“I'm sixty-six years old. I've earned it.” Alonzo lowered his gaze to his coffee. He was using one of the sheriff's office's mismatched ceramic mugs. This one was black. It was easier not to be distracted by coffee stains in your mug when you couldn't see them.

“Sixty-six isn't dead, Sheriff.” Juan straightened on the chair. “Why do you want to retire?”

“I thought you'd be happy.” Alonzo grinned at the deputy, whose youthful features belied his thirty-seven years of age. “Now you won't have to campaign against me to remove this old man from office and make room for more youthful energy and ideas.”

“I don't want to be sheriff.” Juan snorted a laugh.

“You should consider it.” Alonzo sobered. “You'd make a good one.”

“We have a good one.” Juan spread his arms. “Marrying Doreen doesn't mean you have to give up your career.”

“I'm ready to start this new chapter of my life.”

“What's in it?”

“Making myself worthy of Doreen.”

“What do you mean?”

He'd said more than he'd intended. But maybe another law enforcement officer could understand. Alonzo settled his gaze on a corner of his office and let his mind play scenes from his past. “Doreen has spent her whole life helping to build this community. She's served on committees to raise money for the schools, the volunteer fire department. She led the Sesquicentennial Celebration Committee.”

“She pushed for a lot of improvements in the town, including the lights in Freedom Park.” Juan shifted on his chair. “But what does that have to do with you?”

“She's helped people.” Alonzo heaved a sigh. “I've hurt people, a lot of them.”

“You've protected communities.” Juan's tone was firm.

“At what cost?” Alonzo wiped his hand across his brow. Gun battles, screams, death, and blood—that's what he had to live with, thanks to his past.

“I know you've seen a lot more action than I have. But I also know that everything you've done was to protect people in the communities you served.”

“There's blood on my hands, Juan.” Alonzo's voice was low. “Until I wash them clean, I won't feel worthy of someone like Doreen.”

“You're a good man, Sheriff.” Juan's words were adamant. “I know that and so does Doreen.”

“Doreen doesn't know about my past.” Alonzo sighed again. He should have confessed everything to her before he'd proposed. That would have been the honorable thing to do before asking her to spend the rest of her life with him. But he hadn't had the courage to take the risk.

“Then tell her.” Juan shrugged his broad shoulders. “You'll see that her opinion of you won't change. She loves you.”

Alonzo's gaze slid away. Would she still love him once she knew about his past?

CHAPTER 4

“So, who's going to sit in my chair?” Ms. Helen settled onto one of the four crimson red cushioned seats ringing the small honey wood circular conversation table in Dr. Foster Gooden's office.

It was the last Friday morning in March. Benita had joined Foster and Ms. Helen at Trinity Falls University to discuss the endowed chemistry chair a wealthy alumna was gifting to the university in Ms. Helen's honor.

Benita sat beside her great-aunt and allowed her gaze to roam the room. The vice president for academic affairs' office was modest in size, masculine in appearance, and compulsive in order. A thin layer of anxiety covered the office as though all was not as well with the university as the administration would have you believe.

She turned away from her perusal of Foster's family photographs. He'd sacrificed one whole bookshelf to the captured memories.

Benita grinned at Ms. Helen. “‘The Doctor Helen Gaston Endowed Chemistry Chair.' This is a tremendous honor, not just for my great-aunt but for our entire family.”

Ms. Helen squeezed Benita's left hand where it lay on the table beside her. Her voice swelled with laughter. “If it's such an honor for the family, why are you the only one here?”

“Everyone else is afraid of you.” Benita slid the older lady a look. “You told us not to come. I'm the only one who didn't listen.”

Foster chuckled. “We're glad you could make it, Benita.” He turned to Ms. Helen. “We haven't made a formal announcement to the faculty about the chair yet. We want you to be present for the announcement and involved in selecting the professor for the position.”

The vice president's consideration for her great-aunt warmed Benita. “That's very thoughtful of you, Doctor Gooden. Thank you.”

Ms. Helen spoke over Benita, waving a dismissive hand. “That's not necessary, Foster. You and the science division chair can select the professor.”

Foster shook his head. “We want your input, Doctor Gaston. So does the donor.”

“Well, that's just ridiculous.” Ms. Helen's gaze moved from Foster to Benita, then back. “It's kind of her to offer the endowment. And I'm honored that she's named it after me. But you and the science division chair know your faculty. You can choose someone without my input.”

Benita only half heard her great-aunt's objections. “What can you tell us about this donor? She sounds very interesting.”

“Doctor Lana Penn was one of Doctor Gaston's students.” Foster nodded toward Ms. Helen. “She's now founder, president, and chief chemical engineer of Penn Research Laboratories, an international pharmaceutical research company. She credits Doctor Gaston with her success.”

Benita gaped at her great-aunt. “I've heard of Penn Research Laboratories.”

Ms. Helen shrugged. “You and at least three and a half billion other people, half the population of the world.”

Benita blew an impatient breath. “But you were her chemistry professor. She said
you're
the reason for her success.”

“Baloney.” Ms. Helen sucked her teeth. “
She's
the reason for her success. I didn't earn her doctorate; she did. I didn't found Penn Research Laboratories; she did.”

Foster raised his hands. “We can argue to what extent you affected her success, but the fact is she credits you for it.” He let his hands fall to the table. “Because of that, she's offered the university a lot of money, including the endowed chemistry chair.”

“I've toured the campus recently. The university can use her generosity.” Ms. Helen's tone was dry.

The TFU vice president shifted on his seat. “Yes, well, many colleges and universities are going through difficult financial times. Enrollment is down around the country, especially here in the Midwest.”

Benita turned to her great-aunt. “If all she's asking in exchange is that you identify the professor for the endowed chair, you should do it. It's a small request.”

“Actually, that's not all she's asking.” Foster folded his hands. “She wants to host a banquet in your honor in recognition of the endowment.”

Ms. Helen began shaking her head even before Foster finished speaking. “No fuss, Foster.”

“But Doctor Gaston—”

“I said no fuss.” Ms. Helen shrugged her purse onto her shoulder and stood.

Benita tugged her great-aunt's arm to pull her back to her seat. “Aunt Helen, I didn't travel the twenty-four hundred miles from L.A. to Trinity Falls just to sit in Foster's office with you. No offense, Foster.”

“None taken.” Foster raised both hands again.

Ms. Helen crossed her arms. “I told you not to come.”

“And I told you having an endowed chair named after you is a big deal.” Benita grabbed hold of her patience.

“You're the one who's making it a big deal, not me.” Ms. Helen was the embodiment of obstinacy.

Benita wasn't fazed. “Did it ever occur to you that this banquet isn't just about you? It's about the university and Doctor Penn as well. She wants to host an event in your honor. Give her a break and let her do it.”

Ms. Helen opened her mouth to argue. Benita arched a challenging brow.

Ms. Helen looked away. “I'll think about it. I'm not making any promises.”

Benita nodded. “Fair enough.”

Foster looked from Ms. Helen to Benita with an expression of amazement. “Well, all right. Great. Just so you know, Doctor Penn will be here on April seventeenth to discuss the endowed chair and the banquet.”

“I'll check my calendar.” Ms. Helen sniffed.

“Aunt Helen, that's three weeks from now.” Benita stood and looked to Foster. “We're free. Just let us know the time and location.”

Foster rose to his feet. “Ladies, thank you for coming. I'm looking forward to working with both of you as well as Doctor Penn to launch the Doctor Helen Gaston Endowed Chemistry Chair.”

Ms. Helen grunted. “I'm sure you are.”

“I'm glad you were here.” Foster spoke to Benita in a low tone. “I don't think I could have convinced her to even consider the banquet. Doctor Gaston is a very strong personality.”

Benita turned back to Foster as Ms. Helen left his office without her. “You mean stubborn. It'll be an interesting couple of weeks.” She turned to track down her great-aunt.

Ms. Helen was right outside Foster's door. She gave Benita a cool look from sharp ebony eyes. “If you're done managing my schedule, can we leave now?”

Benita led Ms. Helen down the stairs. “Aunt Helen, Doctor Penn is traveling hundreds of miles and giving the university a great deal of money. You can give her one hour of your time.”

She fell into step beside Ms. Helen as they crossed the hallway to the exit. The walls were covered with brochures detailing student services and posters promoting education abroad trips, seminars, and presentations. She pushed through the exit at the end of the hallway and held the door for Ms. Helen to join her.

Her great-aunt stopped beside Benita's rental car. She freed her smartphone from her purse. “I need to text Alonzo. There's no need for his standing noon check-in today.” She spoke as she tapped her keypad. “I don't want him to convene a search party or call highway patrol when I'm not there.”

Benita fished her car keys from her handbag. “I thought his visits were too predictable.”

“They are. And so are Megan and Ean's, Doreen's and Darius's daily visits.” Ms. Helen dropped her smartphone back into her purse, then turned toward the heart of the university, its Oval.

“Where are you going?” Benita fisted her car key and hurried after the older woman.

“I want to stop by Vaughn's office before going home.” The retired professor spoke over her shoulder as she started across the Oval toward another academic building.

“Aunt Helen, I didn't realize you wanted to pay visits to university professors while we were here.” Benita's muscles chilled with the thought of seeing Vaughn now.
I'm not ready!

“Well, now you know.” Ms. Helen didn't slow down nor did she look at Benita. She just kept walking.

Benita was growing desperate. It wouldn't take long to reach Freeman Hall and Vaughn's office. The Oval wasn't large. “It's only eleven o'clock. He's probably in class.”

“No, I called before we came to TFU. He's expecting us.”

He's expecting
us
? I wasn't expecting him.
Benita was momentarily speechless. The building drew closer and closer. “Why didn't you tell me you wanted to meet with him?”

“Because I knew you'd overreact. I didn't want to deal with it until I absolutely had to.” Ms. Helen paused to face Benita. “Vaughn and I are still friends even though the two of you aren't together anymore.”

Benita fisted her palms to keep from wringing her hands. “Aunt Helen, I'm sorry, but I'm not ready to see him.”

Ms. Helen jerked her chin toward the west side of campus. “Then buy yourself a cup of tea at the student center. I won't be long.”

Benita wanted to take this easy way out. She wasn't proud of that. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.” Her great-aunt raised her hand and cupped Benita's left cheek. “You'll do this when you're ready.”

Benita raised her eyes toward Freeman Hall in the near distance. Vaughn was waiting inside. She could picture him, his long, leanly muscled body seated behind his old-fashioned wooden desk. His movie star good looks and soap-and-cedar scent. Her palms itched to caress his smooth nutmeg skin and handsome goatee. She wanted to taste him again.

Benita stepped back. Her great-aunt's hand dropped away. “I'll take your suggestion and get that cup of tea.”

She turned and hurried toward the student center. She'd see Vaughn again. Trinity Falls was way too small to imagine she wouldn't. Hopefully, she'd be stronger when they ran into each other. At least stronger than she was today—because the next time she saw him, she intended to win him back.

CHAPTER 5

“You've been pretty quiet lately. Is everything OK?” Doreen attempted a casual tone as she and Alonzo tidied the dining room and kitchen after dinner Friday night.

She closely watched her fiancé of more than three months. This wasn't the first time she'd asked him about his sudden and uncharacteristic brooding. He probably wouldn't be any more forthcoming today than he'd been the other four times. Still it was worth a try.

“Everything's fine.” Alonzo's faint smile wasn't reflected in his coffee eyes. “I'm just tired.”

Doreen swallowed a sigh. Men. Why was it they always thought they had to deal with their problems alone? She changed the subject. “I bought my wedding dress today.”

“That's nice.”

A bit more enthusiasm wouldn't have been unseemly. She led him from the kitchen to the family room where she'd laid out her lists, pamphlets, and schedule for their wedding plans. “Have you rented your tuxedo?”

“Not yet.”

Her tension began to build. Doreen took a deep, cleansing breath. “When do you think you'll get to that?”

“Soon.”

“That's what you said last week.” Doreen settled onto the sofa. Alonzo sat beside her. “I'm confused. I thought you wanted to get married in June. That's just under three months from now and all we've done is send out save-the-date cards.”

“I'm sorry. I'll look for a tux tomorrow.” He sounded contrite, but Doreen was still suspicious. She'd heard it all before.
Is he having cold feet?

Doreen shook off the irrational fear and handed Alonzo the estimated wedding budget. “I've contacted companies and put together this estimate for our wedding. It includes the church, hall, catering, decorations, everything.”

Alonzo took the sheet from her. His reaction came more quickly than she'd anticipated. “Why does it cost so much?”

“Because it does.” Doreen shifted on the sofa to face him. “Are you ready to elope?”

Alonzo scowled as he gave back the sheet. “I admit it's a lot of money, but I can afford it.”

“Is there anything you'd like to add—”

“No. That's plenty.” Alonzo rubbed the back of his neck. “But I do have one request.”

“What is it?”

“I'd like to make our wedding different from yours and Paul's.”

Doreen nodded. Her voice was gentle. “I understand. Do you have any ideas?”

“No.”

That's not especially helpful.
“We don't have a lot of time, Alonzo.”

“I know.”

“I'd welcome any and all suggestions you might have.”

“All right.”

“Because if you don't have any suggestions for the wedding you wanted to have in three months, then I'm going to suggest that we postpone it.”

“I want you to move in with me.”

Doreen frowned. She hadn't been expecting that. Where had it come from? “I meant suggestions for our wedding.”

“I'm talking about after our wedding.”

Was this about Paul again?

Doreen's gaze drifted around the family room. Its fluffy mauve and white sofa, matching love seat and chair, its maple wood coffee table and hardwood trim. There were memories here, memories that fresh paint and new furniture couldn't pack away.

“I understand why you don't want to start our life in the home I shared with Paul.” Doreen held Alonzo's troubled gaze. “If the situation were reversed, I wouldn't want to live in the home you'd created with your deceased spouse, either. But if we move into your home, we're going to have to redecorate. Your color scheme is too depressing.”

The twinkle returned to Alonzo's eyes. “Deal.”

“Good. Then could we return to our wedding plans, please?”

“I don't want to postpone our wedding.” His expression sobered.

“Alonzo, June twentieth is almost three months away.” Doreen gestured toward the wedding budget she'd returned to the coffee table. “Do you see the list of things we still have to do?”

“
Mi amor,
we'll get it done.”

“You're not going to get around me with your sexy Spanish endearments.” Doreen rose to her feet. “You haven't even rented your tux.”

Alonzo stood, too. “I'll do that tomorrow.”

“You've been saying that for weeks.”

He took her hands in his warm, strong, rough ones. “I promise. We'll even get the rings.”

Doreen's mad was righteous and justified. She didn't want to let go of it. But the warmth of his body, the touch of his skin, his soap-and-shaving-cream scent battered against the stone facade of her temper.

She deepened her scowl. “If you don't get your tuxedo and the rings tomorrow, I'm postponing the wedding.”

“Deal.”

Alonzo lowered his lips to hers. Doreen slid her arms up his shoulders. Her mad disintegrated beneath the passion of his kiss. Beyond their wedding plans and where they'd live after, this is what they were protecting. Alonzo deepened their kiss. Her body responded. She wouldn't let anyone or anything come between them.

 

 

After church Sunday morning, Doreen enjoyed a cup of chai tea with her son in her kitchen. She considered the man Ean had become as he sat on the other side of the circular honey wood table. He looked so much more relaxed than he'd been when he'd first returned home almost two years ago. He'd been tense and out of sorts when he'd left his law firm in New York. Coming home to Trinity Falls had been good for him; so had Megan McCloud.

“When are you going to make me a grandmother?” Doreen battled back laughter as Ean nearly choked on his tea.

“Don't you think Megan and I should get married first?” Ean answered between coughs.

“That would be my preference.” Doreen masked her excitement with a thoughtful tone. Ean obviously had been thinking of a future with Megan.
Yes!
“So when are you going to propose?”

“Mom, how about we get through one family wedding at a time?”

That seemed fair.

Doreen lowered her mug onto the table. Her pulse was jumping. Her nerves were on edge. As much as she dreaded making her announcement, she couldn't put off the reason she'd asked Ean to stop by.

She gripped the warm, white porcelain mug between her palms and breathed in. “Speaking of what comes after marriage, Alonzo and I have been talking about where we'll live once we're married.”

“What have you decided?” A cautious look entered Ean's eyes.
He knew.

Doreen was swamped with guilt. Her gaze swept the kitchen. She loved this room with its natural light, cheery yellow walls, and bright white trim. She treasured the memories it kept, not just those of raising her family but of welcoming friends. Doreen's lips curved in a soft smile. It had been in this room that Alonzo made his first romantic overture to her.

She tucked those images aside. “Alonzo and I have agreed to move into his house. I'm going to put our home on the market.”

“That's sensible. Our house is paid off. The profit from the sale would all go to you.” Ean's gaze roamed the room as though seeking his own memories.
What did he find?

Yes, their decision made sense, but Doreen could feel Ean's disappointment. “I'll split the money from the sale with you. That's what your father would've wanted.”

“Keep it.” Ean shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but Megan and I are doing well. You're the one who's been taking care of the house.”

“But—”

“Or, if you can't think of anything better to do with it, invest it for your grandchild's law school education.” Ean rose from the table, taking his mug with him. He paused beside Doreen, kissed the top of her head, and collected her mug as well. He carried both to the sink.

“Don't tease me about grandchildren.” Doreen picked up his cue to lighten the mood. She turned on her chair to keep Ean in sight.

“Spoilsport.” Ean leaned his hips against the kitchen counter.

Doreen tossed him a grin. “Thank you for understanding our decision to sell the house.”

“I'm sure it wasn't an easy one.” Ean shoved his hands into the front pockets of his tan Dockers.

“No, it wasn't.”

“There are a lot of memories in this house.”

Doreen nodded in the general direction of the front door. “This is the house you grew up in. Your father and I carried you through that door.”

Ean frowned. “You both did?”

“Yes, I carried you through first. Then passed you back to your father and he carried you through.” She blushed as Ean's eyebrows rose. “Wait until you have my first grandchild—then you'll understand.”

“Maybe.” Ean returned to the kitchen table. “Some of my favorite memories are of Dad and me helping you with the Thanksgiving baking.”

Doreen grinned as the images moved across her mind. “The Fever Family Thanksgiving Bake-offs.”

The night before Thanksgiving, they'd gather in the kitchen. Christmas music would blare from the speakers so loudly, they had to shout to hear each other. They'd dance around the kitchen. Paul and Ean would give her ingredients while she mixed the batters. Their antics were so distracting that the baking actually took longer. But it had been worth it.

“You and Alonzo will create memories in your new home.” Ean stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles.

“That's the plan.”

“Then what's wrong?” Ean knew her too well.

“Something has been bothering Alonzo for months, but he won't tell me what it is. I've asked him several times. He always says he's tired. I'm at my wit's end.”

“Do you want me to ask him?”

“No, thank you.” Doreen shook her head. “We need to work out our problems ourselves. I just wish I knew what his was.”

“When did you first notice something was wrong?”

Doreen set her right elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her palm. “Shortly after we started planning our wedding.”

“I thought he was in a rush to get married.”

“He says he still is.”

“But you don't believe him.” Ean sounded like the lawyer he was.

Doreen shrugged off her discomfort. “I had to threaten him with postponing the wedding to get him to order a tux.”

“It's a good sign that he chose to order the tux rather than postpone the wedding.”

“Is it?” Doreen met his gaze.

“What do you mean?”

Doreen bit her lips. Saying the words would give the fear power. “What if he's decided that it was a mistake to propose to me? What if he really
doesn't
want to marry me?”

“Mom, that's ridiculous.”

Is it?
“I'm open to other suggestions.”

She was at her wit's end. She'd given Alonzo plenty of opportunities to share what was on his mind. She'd even asked him directly if he was having second thoughts. If he didn't confide to her the reason for his distant behavior, she was considering making the unilateral decision to postpone their wedding—if she could get her heart to agree.

“I'm going to need help coordinating the play.” Vaughn Brooks followed Darius to one of the few available tables in Books & Bakery's café Tuesday.

It was lunchtime and the place was packed. Employees from local businesses, and students, staff, and faculty from Trinity Falls University were looking to console their sorrows over the start of a new week with Doreen's famous Trinity Falls Fudge Walnut Brownies.

“I had a feeling you might.” Darius spoke over his shoulder as he closed in on the table for two. “A production that ambitious is more than a one-man show.”

“I gave it my best shot.” Vaughn lowered himself onto a chair at the small, white, rectangular table. He was glad Darius had snagged the spot before anyone else had claimed it. “There's a lot to do: scheduling, auditions, costumes, props.”

“Not to mention promoting the performance and managing the ticket orders.” Darius bit into his turkey-and-cheddar-on-wheat sandwich.

“I was thinking of asking Peyton again. She turned me down the first time.” Vaughn scooped his spoon through his chicken-and-wild-rice soup.

“Why?” Darius paused with his iced tea halfway to his mouth.

“She said she didn't have experience with theater performances. But she did a great job with the fund-raising event for the Guiding Light Community Center.”

Vaughn studied Darius for his reaction to his request. This past fall,
The Trinity Falls Monitor
's managing editor had thought Vaughn and Peyton were dating. In truth, Vaughn was one of several Trinity Falls residents who were matchmaking Darius and Trinity Falls University's newest faculty member. Now that Darius and Peyton were the latest happy couple in their little town, did the newspaper man harbor any lingering resentments toward him?