The Color of the Season (2 page)

But I didn’t say any of that, because I had my pride to consider.

Instead I stood in anger, glaring at her while my head pounded with tension.

“I’m very sorry,” she said again. “I hope one of these days you’ll be able to forgive me.”

“Don’t bet on it,” I replied, and felt an instantaneous regret for lashing out at her that way—at this woman I loved.
Still loved
.

But this was the second time I’d been cheated on, and I was bitter.

I was terribly, terribly bitter.

Chapter Three

A few years back, I fell in love with a beautiful woman named Brooke, who I intended to marry. We met in an upscale restaurant downtown not long after I entered the police force. She was fresh out of college, working an entry-level position with a large marketing firm.

I still remember what she wore that night—a skinny black pencil skirt, glossy white blouse, red, patent leather heels. Her black hair was sleek and shiny and hung to a sharp point at her waist. She had an ivory complexion and her smile electrified the whole room. The physical attraction between us was off the charts and we immediately entered into a relationship that lasted well over a year.

All I’d wanted was to be with her forever and maybe that was my problem. I lost sight of everything else in my life. When things eventually settled into a slower pace between us, I wasn’t prepared for the possibility that she might get bored.

Which she did.

That became obvious when I invited Kevin, an old college buddy of mine to come and stay with me for the weekend. Brooke soon decided he was far more exciting than I was.

I’ve since come to realize that she’d always been attracted to men she didn’t know very well. I suppose I was in that category when we first met in the restaurant. But when the excitement faded, so did her level of interest.

I walked in on Brooke and Kevin in my apartment, in bed together—which was a double betrayal because Kevin had been one of my best friends since freshman year. I took it pretty hard when he did that to me.

Last I’d heard, he and Brooke dated for about six months, then went their separate ways. I haven’t spoken to either of them since, and it was a long time before I felt ready to date again, let alone to enter into another serious relationship. For a while there, I thought I would never be ready.

Until I met Carla.

o0o

I was scheduled to work the graveyard shift on the day Carla dumped me, which at least spared me the agony of going to bed alone, tossing and turning, and over-analyzing what went wrong between us.

I’d done enough of that over the past few days when she stopped answering my calls.

But really… What
had
I done wrong? I was a good guy with a decent job with the Boston Police Department. Sure, I was only an officer in the traffic division, but I was young, educated and ambitious, and I had my eye on the next level. I was confident that eventually I’d slide over to the routine patrol division, learn the ropes there, and sooner or later get promoted to lieutenant. Or I could apply for advanced training for the SWAT unit anytime.

As far as my personal life was concerned, I was as loyal and family-oriented as any man could be. I loved my mom and treated her like a queen. I enjoyed cooking and didn’t mind doing dishes and laundry. I’d always loved kids—I certainly had plenty of experience with my nieces and nephews. I adored Carla’s teenage daughter Kaleigh and had tried my best to get to know her.

When all was said and done, I had been more than ready to walk down the aisle and become a husband and stepdad. I’d thought Carla wanted that too. I believe she
did
want it.

At least until she flew up to Canada to meet Robinson Crusoe.

Chapter Four

As soon as I got into the squad car shortly after midnight and started up the engine, my partner Scott set his coffee in the cup holder and cocked his head.

“So what happened between you and Carla?” he asked. “Did she ever get back to you?”

I shifted into reverse, backed up, and drove out of the station parking lot toward the turnpike.

“Yeah,” I replied. “She came over this morning and finally said what needed to be said, so at least now I know.”

“All, hell,” Scott said. “How are you holding up?”

I tugged down on the brim of my hat. “Let’s just say I’ve had better days.”

“What about the ring?” Scott asked. “Did you have a chance to give it to her, or at least tell her about it?”

I scoffed. “Are you kidding? After she stood me up and spent the weekend with another guy, I didn’t think it was an opportune time.”

Scott picked up his coffee and sipped it. “Sorry to hear that. You guys seemed good together. You sure as hell
looked
good, like some Hollywood power couple or something.” He paused and glanced out the window while the vehicle tires hissed through puddles on the wet pavement. “But listen—maybe if you tell her about the ring, it might change her mind and make her realize what she’s walking away from. You know how girls are about diamonds. The sparkles make them all weepy. My wife practically fainted in my arms when I proposed to her.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head. “She seems pretty into the other guy—like she thinks they’re soul mates or something, which I really don’t get, and I just can’t forgive. We’ve been together for a year. How could she just flick a switch and do an about-face like that?” I waved a hand over the steering wheel. “I really need to let this go. I’m starting to sound like a broken record—a pathetic, heartbroken sap. Somebody, please, just shoot me now.”

Scott chuckled. “Hey, I understand. She delivered a blow. Seemed like it came out of nowhere, too.” He patted my shoulder. “You’ll get through it, buddy. We just need to find you a
new
girl. A really
hot
girl.”

I nodded because that was the “guy” thing to do, even though I had no interest in hot new girls. All I wanted was Carla.

“Do you see that?” Scott asked, pointing at the silver minivan in front of us, weaving back and forth over the center line.

Scott called in the license plate number to the dispatcher while I activated the siren and flashing blues.

Chapter Five

“I’ll get this,” Scott said, raising the hood of his slicker and opening the car door at the shoulder of the road. “But you could order the rain to stop, if you get a minute.”

“Sure thing.” I leaned forward slightly to squint up at the dark, overcast sky while water sluiced down over the windshield.

While I kept the wipers moving at full speed and let the car idle to prevent the windows from fogging up, Scott got out and approached the vehicle.

Attentively, I watched him tap a knuckle on the window of the van and begin to converse with the driver. I noted another passenger in front—a woman leaning across the console to speak to Scott, though it was difficult to make her out through the blinking rear tail lights and heavy rain.

Scott eventually moved a few feet back and gestured for the driver to step out of the vehicle.

Must be a DUI, I thought. Not surprising, given how the van was weaving about.

Just as I reached to unfasten my seatbelt, however, I heard a gunshot. I looked up to see Scott stumbling backwards onto the road.

Shit
!

Within seconds, I had radioed for backup and was out of the squad car, going for my gun.

“
Freeze! Drop your weapon
!” I shouted, darting a quick glance at Scott. He was conscious and clutching his shoulder.

By now the perp had scrambled back into the minivan. The passenger door opened and the woman fell onto the road, screaming hysterically. “Help me!”

“Stay down!” I shouted at her.

Just as I reached the driver’s side door, the tires skidded over the wet pavement, spitting up loose gravel. The van fishtailed out of there.

The next thing I knew, I was aiming my .38 and considering firing off a couple of rounds at the left rear tire, but I didn’t have to. The driver hit the brakes for some reason and the minivan did a 180 on the slick pavement. It skidded into the guard rail about a hundred yards away.

“You okay?” I asked Scott, who was rising unsteadily to his feet. I reached out to give him a hand.

“Yeah. The little bastard got me in the arm. I think it just grazed me.”

“Get the woman,” I said, hearing the sound of the minivan engine sputter. The suspect was attempting to make another escape. “Backup is on the way.”

Sirens wailed in the distance. The front door of the van swung open. The suspect hopped out and sprinted down the off-ramp.

“I’m going after him,” I said to Scott, and broke into a run.

Chapter Six

I barely registered Scott’s voice calling after me, telling me to wait for backup. I probably should have listened to him, but I couldn’t let the suspect get away. Not after he’d shot my partner at close range.

Running at a fast clip down the off ramp, I radioed in my location and followed the perp into an auto body repair shop parking lot.

I was breathing heavily by then, aware of the sound of my rapid footfalls across the pavement, splashing through puddles.

The suspect disappeared around the back of the building. I followed briskly, pausing at the corner to check my weapon and peer out to make sure he wasn’t positioned there, waiting for me.

He had gained some distance and was scrambling up and over a chain-link fence. I immediately resumed my pursuit and climbed the fence to propel myself over.

Inside the repair shop, a dog barked viciously. An outdoor light flicked on, illuminating the rear lot. I was almost over the fence when a door opened and a large German shepherd was released from within. He came bounding toward me, barking and growling.

I dropped to the ground on the other side of the fence.

“Police officer in pursuit of a suspect!” I shouted at the man who followed his dog across the lot.

“He’s heading that way!” the man helpfully replied, pointing, but I didn’t stop to acknowledge his assistance because the suspect was escaping toward a residential area across the street.

“
Stop! Police
!” I shouted.

To my surprise, just as the shooter reached a low hedge in front of a small bungalow…instead of jumping over it, he halted on the spot and whirled around.

I trained my gun on him. “
Drop your weapon
!”

He raised both arms out to the side.

“I said drop your weapon!”

I blinked a few times to clear my vision in the blur of the rain. Then…

Crack!

A searing pain shot through my stomach, just below the bottom of my vest. Then another
crack
! I felt my thigh explode.

Somehow I managed to fire off a few rounds before sinking to the ground. The suspect did the same.

In that instant, two squad cars came skidding around the corner, sirens wailing and lights flashing.

Slowly, wearily, finding it difficult to breathe, I lay down on my back in the middle of the street and removed my hat as I stared up at the gray night sky. A cold, hard rain washed over my face. I began to shiver.

Vaguely, I was aware of the other two units pulling to a halt nearby. I turned my head to watch two officers in raincoats approach the suspect, who was face down in the ditch in front of the hedge.

Then rapid footsteps, growing closer…

“Josh, are you okay?”

I looked up at Gary, a rookie who had offered me a stick of gum in the break room before I’d headed out that night. I nodded my head, but felt woozy. “I think I’m hit.”

“Yeah,” he replied, glancing uneasily at my abdomen. “Help’s on the way. Hang in there, buddy. You’re going to be fine.”

Feeling chilled to the bone, I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

By now Gary was applying pressure to my stomach, which hurt like hell. He shouted over his shoulder, “Need some help over here!”

I clenched my jaw against the burning agony in my guts and leg, and heard more sirens.

“Will they be here soon?” I asked with a sickening mixture of panic and dread.

“Yeah,” Gary replied. “Any second now. Just hang on.”

“It’s cold,” I whispered. “I should have worn the raincoat.”

More footsteps. I felt no pain, only relief but was drifting off. It was hard to focus.

Another cop knelt down beside me.

I labored to focus on his face.

“MacIntosh,” I said. “Can you call Carla for me? Tell her I’m sorry about this morning. Tell her I love her. I didn’t mean what I said. I should have walked her to the door.”

“You can tell her yourself,” MacIntosh replied.

His patronizing response roused a wave of anger in me.

“No.” I grabbed his wrist and spoke through clenched teeth. “I need you to promise me… Promise me you’ll tell her, or I swear I’ll knock your head off.”

“All right, all right,” he replied. “I’ll tell her.”

That was the last thing I remembered from that day.