Shocking Pink (38 page)

Even when you had nowhere else to turn? Even when you were saving your own life? Even when you were protecting your child?

Right and wrong. Good and bad. Black and white.

Andie thought of everything Martha had told her over the year they had been working together; she thought of Patti, her despair, her fear and now, her relief. And she thought of the man Edward had been and the things he had done to these two women. Horrible, vile things.

He deserved to be dead. It was better that he was.

Shaken by her own thoughts, Andie stood. She didn’t want to know what had really been going through Martha’s head, Andie realized. Not now, not at this moment, anyway. Maybe tomorrow. Now, she needed to clear her head. To think. She needed to know the right thing to do.

“I have to go,” she said. Martha looked at her in surprise, and Andie forced a casual smile. “There’s something…I remembered. I…there’s someone I need to see. Tell Patti I said goodbye.”

Without a backward glance, she hurried to her car.

W
ithout a conscious plan, Andie drove to Nick’s place. She parked at the curb in front of his house and walked to the front door. He wasn’t home, so she sat on the step to wait. Her thoughts whirled with bits and snatches from various conversations with Martha and Nick, Patti and Robert; with her own suspicions. With her confusion over what to do.

Could it be true? Could Martha have deliberately pushed Edward to the edge, to the point he would commit murder, so she would be forced to protect herself? So she would be forced to kill him, truly in self-defense?

Not only could it be true, it was. Andie knew it in her gut, without absolute proof.

What did she do now?

Andie lifted her face to the rapidly darkening sky, then glanced over her shoulder, at Nick’s front door. This was becoming a habit, showing up here whenever she was frightened or confused. Whenever she needed answers.

Nick made her feel good. When she was with him, all felt right with the world. When she was with him, she felt brave. Fearless.

Only she was neither of those things.

When had she become a watcher?

Andie caught her breath at the thought, the truth of it. When had she begun to let fear control her? she wondered. Fear of being hurt. Of ruining her reputation. Of upsetting the status quo.

She shifted slightly on the step, uncomfortable. What had happened to the courageous girl who had risked everything to help a woman she didn’t even know?

When had she begun hiding from life?

She closed her eyes. She thought of the girl she had been at fifteen. Young and strong and brave. She thought of Raven, too. And of Julie.

That terrible summer had altered them, altered the course of their lives forever. She had lost her father that summer, had lost the perfect picture-book family she had thought she had. She had been introduced to a dark side of life that no young girl should know of; she had, for the first time, seen that actions had consequences, for better or worse. And once committed, an act could not be undone.

The changes in her had begun then. The uncertainty. The fear. The unwillingness to risk.

So she had eschewed risk. She had kept to the safe, the predictable, the easy.

Raven had been doing the same thing, Andie realized. Hiding from life. They had been using each other, depending on each other for everything—because it was safe. Easy. It came without risks.

She had to stop. They had to stop.

From across the street came a burst of childish laughter. Two children raced across the front yard, followed by their parents. The woman glanced over, lifted her hand in greeting, then dropped it, as if realizing Andie wasn’t Nick’s wife, that she didn’t know her.

Sudden tears stung Andie’s eyes. She wanted that woman to recognize her. She wanted to belong here, on this front step, inside this house. She wanted to belong to Nick.

She loved him. Sometime over the past weeks, she had fallen in love with him. The feeling swelled inside her until she thought she might burst with it. Even as she admitted her feelings to herself, she admitted she was afraid. He might not love her back. He might love her for a while, then leave her. The way her dad had left her mom.

She drew in a deep, shaky breath. But living without him sounded scarier still. It sounded lonely. How could she not have seen that before?

She was done running. The time had come to take a few risks. To put herself, her heart, what she believed, on the line.

And do what? Tell him she loved him? Blurt it out like an awkward teenager?

Yes, exactly that.

Andie stiffened. Words, resolutions, were easy. Saying them to herself, thinking them. But acting on them, following through, that was the tough part.

Take a risk, Andie. Tell him the truth; tell him how you feel.
Andie glanced at Nick’s door again, feeling buoyed, invincible.
Take a stand, not just about him, but about everything: Martha, Raven, life itself.

The time had come to act on what was in her heart, on what she believed in—in her gut. No matter the consequences.

Even as the resolution formed in her mind, Nick arrived home. He pulled into the driveway. She watched him climb out of his Jeep and walk toward her. Her heart began to thud against the wall of her chest and a sensation filled her—one that was light and fluttery and breathless. She loved everything about him, she acknowledged. The way he walked. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the sound of his voice, the way she felt when she was with him.

He stopped before her, his expression serious. “Hi.”

She held his gaze. “Hi.”

“What’s up?”

“I was missing you.”

He smiled and caught her hands, drawing her to her feet. “Funny. I was missing you, too.”

His words went straight to her head. “Were you?”

“I left a message with your service.”

She smiled. “I can’t wait to get it.”

“You can use my phone.”

“Mara’s at her mother’s?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, we have the house all to ourselves? Just you and me?”

“All to ourselves.” He cupped her face in his palms. “Just you and me.”

He was so beautiful, she thought. So strong and good. He made her feel brave again, he made her
feel
again.

She traced her fingers across his lips. She loved him. God, that felt good. Wonderful. The most wonderful feeling in the world.

He lowered his mouth to hers. Andie sighed and looped her arms around him, drawn into his kiss, into the dizzy way it made her feel, kissing him back.

If she let herself, she could drown herself, her thoughts, in this. Nick’s kiss, his lovemaking. If she let herself, she would take the easy way once again. The way without risks.

Take a risk, Andie. Go for it.

“Wait,” she murmured against his mouth. She brought her hands to his chest. “Wait.”

He broke away, meeting her eyes, his filled with questions. She smiled, nervous, her every instinct telling her to run for cover as fast as she could.

Instead, she met his eyes, his questions, evenly. “Could we talk for a minute? There’s something I…I need to tell you. Before I lose my nerve.”

“Sounds important.”

“It is.” She laughed suddenly and sat down. She lifted her face to his. “You didn’t know I was just a big ol’ chicken, did you?”

He sat beside her on the step, his expression amused. “Oh, sure, after capable, brilliant, independent and gorgeous, that’s just what I’d call you. A chicken.”

She smiled. “It’s true, though. I didn’t even realize how big of one until today.”

He seemed to sense she needed time to compose her thoughts, and he gave it to her. He sat quietly, patiently, but with the kind of stillness that resonated with awareness. Nick Raphael missed nothing.

She loved that about him, too.

Andie drew a deep breath, marshaling her courage. “I have to say this for me, Nick. Just…because. But I want you to know beforehand that I don’t…I won’t expect anything from you after.”

He turned to her, his gaze intent. “All right, Andie. I’m listening.”

So, she said it. Blurted out the words even as part of her wanted to call them back, hide them away and retreat to the safe place she had depended on for so long.

“I love you, Nick.”

He said nothing. One awkward moment became a dozen of them, and tears stung her eyes. She felt like an idiot. Like a fool, socially challenged, emotionally deficient.

She cleared her throat, determined to go on anyway. “I needed to be honest with you. I realized a lot of things today, and one of them was that I’ve been hiding from life. Afraid of being hurt. Afraid of losing…something. Even when it was something I was too afraid to go after.”

She sucked in another quick breath. “It’s okay that you don’t feel the same. You don’t need to say anything. In fact, don’t say anything. It’ll be better that way, and—”

“Shh.” He laid a finger against her lips. “Don’t apologize for giving me a gift, Andie.” He smiled. “I’m glad you love me. And I’m glad you’re here. Okay?”

Relief moved over her, as did disappointment. Relief because she had done it, taken her first step out of emotional hiding and the world hadn’t come crashing to a halt. Disappointment because he hadn’t said he loved her in return. But the feeling wasn’t unbearable. It wasn’t nearly as horrible as she had thought it would be.

She returned his smile. “You’re so strong. You seem invincible. Like you always know which way you’re going, like you never make a mistake. Have you ever, Nick Raphael? Made a mistake? Or are you as perfect as you seem?”

He gazed at her a moment, his smile fading. “Mistakes? Oh, yeah. Take a look at my marriage. I couldn’t have screwed that one up more if I’d been trying.”

Nick sighed, stood and crossed to the far edge of the small front porch. He gazed out at the street and the lights popping on up and down the block. “Jenny was right,” he murmured, almost to himself. “The end of our marriage wasn’t all her fault, though I told myself it was.”

He tipped his face to the sky for a moment, then looked back out at the street. “I always knew what was important. Family. My marriage. At least I gave lip service to that.” He laughed, the sound tight and almost bitter. “Somehow, I let it all slip away from me.”

He met Andie’s eyes; the regret in them took her breath. “I screwed up. I put my job before my marriage. Before my family. It started before Mrs. X’s murder, but her murder sent it spiraling out of control. I was so busy proving myself, proving I was Supercop. The best. The smartest. I worked on cases that weren’t mine, I stayed late, did the overtime. When I wasn’t doing that, I was rehashing the Robertson case, sure I would find something we had missed.

“I forgot what was important. Then it was too late. Jenny was gone. She’d turned to another man. She’d taken Mara with her. My family was gone.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that. You can’t get that back once you’ve lost it, Andie. And it really hurts.”

For long moments, she said nothing, thinking of Nick and his marriage, but also of her father. Had he felt that way, once he had lost them? Though it had been his choice to leave, looking back, had he had regrets? From things he had said over the years, she thought so.

She stood and went to Nick. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and pressed her cheek to his back. “I’m sorry, Nick.”

“It’s over.”

“Is it?” He stiffened slightly and she tightened her arms around him, hating what she was about to say, but having to say it anyway. “You could go to her. Try again.”

He shook his head. “It’s over. When she left, Jenny and I hadn’t loved each other in a long time.” He turned and circled his arms around her waist. “Besides, you’re in the picture now.”

She wanted to melt in his arms. She wanted to believe that her being “in the picture” made a difference. She didn’t do either and met his gaze evenly. “Neither of those has a thing to do with what you just told me. You were talking about family. About your family. About missing them.”

“That’s not going to change.”

“I know, Nick.” She slipped out of his arms. “I also know what it’s like to be the kid who wants her parents to be together again, more than anything. I know what it’s like to resent the woman who took my daddy away. That doesn’t disappear, even though my father and Leeza have been together for fifteen years and my mother’s gone on with her life. Still, a part of me hates her for stealing my father and for busting up my family.”

“You didn’t steal me, Andie. The situation is totally different.”

“I know that, too. I guess I’m wanting you to be honest with me, and yourself, about the possibilities. What if Jenny came back, Nick? What if she wanted you back? If she wanted to be a family again?”

He hesitated before answering, the seconds agonizing. “Jenny and I don’t love each other anymore, and I don’t think there’s a snowball’s chance in hell she’d want back with me, but I’ve got to be honest with you, I don’t know what I’d do. Because of Mara.”

His answer hurt more than anything had in a long time, maybe forever. She swallowed hard, past the emotion, past the tears, determined to be a grown-up. She wasn’t going to hide from things that scared her, not anymore.

“I’m sorry, Andie. I know that’s not what you hoped to hear.”

“It’s what I expected, though. And I appreciate your being honest with me.”

“Still a Boy Scout, aren’t I?” A rueful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Jenny always accused me of never seeing shades of gray in the world. She called me narrow, anal retentive, blind. That was me, Mr. Right or Wrong. Black or white. The perennial Boy Scout. Now, suddenly, I look around and see all sorts of gray.”

“What do you mean?”

He paused before answering, though she was unsure whether searching for the perfect example or for impact. “Like the situation with your patient, Martha Pierpont.”

Andie worked to keep her thoughts, her dismay, from showing. Did he know her so well now, he could read her mind?

“I’ve reviewed all the case notes, I’ve talked with the prosecutor, heard about Patti. And I think about how Martha lived, all those years with that sick bastard. I think about what he did to his daughter, and I think it’s better that he’s dead. It’s sure as hell better that Martha killed him than the other way around. And he might have. He was doing his best to kill her slowly, day after day, year after year.

“But I can’t think that, not officially. As a cop, if I have proof Martha Pierpont acted with premeditation, I’m bound by my job to act on that proof. To uphold the law. Black and white.”

“But as a man?” Andie asked, loving him more now than she had even a moment ago. For his honesty. His humanity.

“As a man?” He looked up at the dark sky and the new moon. “The answer’s not so black-and-white, is it? The world’s a better place without Edward Pierpont. Sometimes shitty people deserve to die. And sometimes innocent people, good people, get stuck in situations beyond their control. Situations they don’t deserve.”