A Silent Fury (10 page)

“So there's no one who can vouch for you at the time of the murder?”

Dylan shook his head then dropped it into his hands. His shoulders shook as he sobbed.

Catelyn turned and left the room.

J
oseph reassured Dylan once more that he would do everything in his power to prove his innocence and to just hang in there.

Then he went after Catelyn.

Locating her was easy. Out in the parking lot, she stood facing her car. Unmoving, still as stone.

When he placed a hand on her shoulder, she flinched, whirling to face him. “You said I've changed. What made you say that?”

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he suggested, “Why don't you take me home? We'll talk on the way.”

She gave a short nod and pressed the keyless remote to unlock the doors. Silence filled the car for the first few minutes of the drive as he pondered how to word what he wanted to say, then he took a deep breath and ventured, “When I said you'd changed, I meant you're different. You were so…emotionless when we brought Dylan in. I don't remember that about you. You seem to have a new…hardness about you. Where's your compassion? The deep caring that you used to express for each and every person you come in contact with? The belief that everyone was innocent until proven guilty?”

Shocked, she stared at him for a full five seconds before swinging her eyes back to the road.

More silence as several miles clipped past.

Uh-oh. Had he done it now? Pushed her completely away?

He saw her shoulders lift as she breathed deep. But she still didn't respond. He gave her a couple of more minutes and right before she pulled into his driveway, he asked, “Catie?”

Staring straight ahead, she told him, “Just get out, Joseph.”

“So, you're going to push me away again?”

Whiplike she faced him. That's when he saw the tears trembling on her lashes. “You left me! You left, packed up and moved away before…”

“Before what, Catie?” Her pain seared him, but maybe now they could find the answers they'd left in limbo two years ago.

“You told me to leave, if I remember correctly. You said you couldn't ever be what I wanted, and that you needed space and time, that you didn't know if you'd ever be ready for marriage, especially to another cop. Is any of this ringing a bell?”

He should have left that last part off. But she didn't blast him on it. Her shoulders shook, and in the moonlight, he could see the tears fall. “But you weren't supposed to just…go. You lay out these expectations about how you want a wife like your mother—” she paused, thinking “—and I didn't want to quit my job.”

She stopped, her frustration evident.

“I never asked you to quit your job!”

 

Catelyn realized she was losing the battle against the storm of tears threatening to unleash itself. “Yes, you did! I can't talk about this now, Joseph.”

He opened his door and Catelyn stared in shock as he slammed it. Then he marched around to the driver's side, unbuckled her seat belt and pulled her out of her seat. “Hey!”

“Come on.”

“What are doing?” she protested, but didn't fight him.

“What I should have done two years ago.”

He led her through the front yard, around to the back and down to the little pond that sat on the edge of his parents' property.

His touch turned gentle and he rubbed her shoulders before pointing to the bench that faced the water. “Sit down, please, will you?”

She hesitated a fraction, wondering where he was going with this then lowered herself to the bench. The moon offered enough visibility that she was able to see his face. He'd shocked the tears from her throat with his high-handed, albeit gentle, maneuvering. She had to admit, he hadn't physically hurt her once. She could have pulled away and left had she chosen to do so…and she knew he wouldn't have stopped her.

He demanded, “Now, talk to me, please?”

She bit her lip; looked away. The urge to run away threatened to overpower her. The desire to share with Joseph the hurt in her heart took precedence. “You know as well as I do the kind of woman you want to marry. Only you didn't share those expectations with me until we were already…until it was too…”

Oh, Lord, give me the words.
“My mother and my father were cops, you know that. I just never told you—in detail—what a lousy marriage they had,” she said through gritted teeth. “I made the decision not to get involved with a cop…and then you came along and I thought maybe it would be okay. But—” she blew out a breath “—I now know that I can't live the life of what it would entail.”

“I haven't asked you to marry me, Catelyn.”

She flinched at the reminder. “True, but you were going to two years ago, weren't you?”

This time he jerked. “Yeah, I was.”

She felt the tears trying to surface again and only stopped
them through sheer willpower. “You want me to be like your mother, stay home, do nothing but care for a family, have babies, all that. And like you said not too long ago, ‘what's wrong with that?' And the answer is—nothing. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that—if that's what a woman wants to do.” She lifted her hands, palms up. “I don't.”

He rubbed his chin and looked at the ground, a flush covering his cheeks. “And you think I would expect that of you?”

“Yes!” He averted his gaze and she knew she'd hit a bull's-eye. But she wanted him to understand completely why they were wrong for each other. “Oh, maybe not at first, but eventually you would because, in your heart, that's what you want. You would drop little hints in the beginning, then those hints would turn to suggestions, then to outright demands. And when I didn't comply, not only would I feel guilty for not following my husband's requests, you'd resort to begging, guilt trips, whatever.”

“You think you have me figured out pretty good, don't you?”

Catelyn could see his face, but couldn't read his expression. She thought she saw some anger, maybe—pity? But he didn't deny her accusations, either. Instead, he squatted in front of her. “Is that what your parents' marriage was like?”

She snapped her mouth shut, but it gave a betraying tremble. Instead of being angry with her, taking offense at her blunt, possibly overreactive words, he was trying to understand, offering her compassion, empathy.

The dam broke and the tears dripped one after the other down her cheeks. His hand lifted to wipe them away, but there was no stopping the flood.

Catelyn blurted, “Yes, and it was awful.” Her voice squeaked, but she didn't care. “They loved each other in the beginning, had such high hopes and dreams. They had me.”
She tapped her chest then let her hand drop. “And they just pushed it all away, like it wasn't important. They shoved me to the wayside. The job became everything and they started competing with each other. Who could earn the most decorations, make the most collars, be the best cop.” She whispered, “Hurt the other one the most.”

“Aw, Catie. Why didn't you ever tell me all this?”

“I…just couldn't. It makes me so mad, so hurt, I try not to think about it.”

“So that's why you needed space and…” His quiet words struck her heart. She'd hurt him, too, two years ago.

“And when you left like you did—” she broke off, bit her lip “—I'm sorry, Joseph. I've got to go.”
Before I say anything else.
She stood and he rose from his crouched position, grimacing as his knees popped.

A small watery chuckle escaped her, breaking the tension a bit. “You're getting to be an old man, Santino.”

“We don't have to be your parents, Catelyn.” He lifted a hand and stroked her cheek, not letting her sidetrack him with a poor attempt at humor. “I care too much about you to let you sweep this under the rug. I think what happened two years ago goes a lot deeper than what you've touched on here.”

She drew in another deep breath. “I need to leave, Joseph.”

He followed her back to her car without another word. She could tell he wanted to push it. To get all the answers out of her. But right now, all she wanted was to go home, crawl into bed and pull the covers up over her head for at least a week.

But she couldn't. She still had a missing girl to find—and if Joseph's instincts were on target, there was still a murderer wandering free.

She definitely had her work cut out for her.

Emotions and feelings would have to wait.

Joseph let her go.

She almost wondered if she'd really blown it this time. Had she pushed him away for good?

Sighing, exhaustion cramped her and she pushed the emotion aside. She just couldn't deal with it anymore.

Pulling into her driveway, she noticed things had changed a bit since she'd left a few hours earlier. Crime-scene tape still covered the area, but the house stood in darkness. She'd forgotten to leave a light on.

Memory of the earlier incident spooked her and she shivered as she put the car in park and turned it off. She really wished she'd left some kind of light burning. Or that she'd asked Joseph to follow her home.

Get a grip. You're a cop.

True, but sometimes criminals returned to the scene of the crime, she had no backup with her—and she'd never liked coming home to an empty, dark house. She had enough of that when her parents had worked the same shift late into the night during her early teenage years before her father…

Unclipping the strap from her Glock 23, she decided she'd rather be safe than sorry.

Inserting the key, she unlocked the door.

At least it was locked this time.

Slowly, she inched it open and stepped inside. And just stood there.

Listening.

Two minutes passed. Three.

Nothing moved. Not a whisper of a sound that shouldn't be there.

Breathing a little easier, she flipped on the foyer light, walked into her den and winced. Quickly, she gave her house a walk-through.

All clear.

Back in the den.

What a mess. “Great. Just what I want to deal with tonight. Lord,” she said aloud, “I don't know how this case is going to turn out, but help me remember You're still in charge. And I don't know where all this is going with Joseph, why I felt so compelled to spill my guts like that, but…”

Cutting off her prayer, she waded through the mess to pick up a picture knocked facedown on the mantel. She turned it over and felt tears well up again.

Her parents on their wedding day.

Never had two people looked so happy. Her dad in his uniform dress blues and her mother in a gown of white. Big grins and bigger dreams.

Oh, God, why? What happened? Where did it go wrong? Why couldn't they work it out? Compromise? Something? How did they turn into enemies? These two people who were supposed to have each other's back?

She studied her dad's face and a fury like she'd never known herself capable of filled her. She screamed aloud at the photo, “How could you leave me like that? How?”

Frisbee style, she flung the picture across the room where it whacked the wall and fell to the floor, broken glass littering the hardwood.

Just like her heart.

A thousand tiny pieces. Shattered, never to be put back together.
Why didn't You do something, God? Why? With all Your power and all Your love, how could You just let them…

With shock, she stopped her anguished prayer and dropped to the couch. What was she saying? Was she blaming God for the downward spiral of her parents' marriage and the twists her life had taken as a result?

Breath whooshed from her lungs as she considered that.

Maybe she did blame God.

But she loved God.

And God had failed her. At least that's how she felt.

Tears coursed down her cheeks as she got up, still pondering this self-realization she'd stumbled onto. Mindless, she began to clean the mess left by her intruder. Zombie-like, she walked into the kitchen for a trash bag, then back to the den to throw away broken pieces of one lamp and other odds and ends she'd had sitting on her mantel.

Mad at God.

He'd failed her.

He'd left her when she needed Him.

Just like her father.

Just like Joseph.

Which brought her back to why she could never be with Joseph. She couldn't live up to his expectations for one, and she didn't know if she could get past her fear of what marrying another officer would entail.

Numb, she moved to the entertainment center. The large wooden structure had been jerked away from the wall so the thieves could unplug the DVD player and other electronic equipment she'd had.

For a moment, she studied the television. The great gaping hole in the center of the screen stared back her, a one-eyed monster. It definitely looked like it had been smashed on purpose. The TV was an older model. Maybe they were mad that it wouldn't bring much money and had decided to take the anger out on the object.