Authors: Karen Kingsbury
Last night at the hospital Officer Kent had come by and Marcus had brought up the woman’s name. “She pushed me out of the way before the guy fired. Almost like she knew what was going to happen.”
“I saw the whole thing.” The officer shook his head. “Like she had some sort of advance warning.”
“Did you check her out? I mean . . . I guess I wondered if she knew something.”
“She’s not from the area. No record of her in any of the searches. But we don’t think she was involved.”
Marcus picked up a pair of fifty-pound dumbbells. Good that Aspyn wasn’t working for a gang. But how had she known to push him out of the way? And how come she hadn’t been hit? The whole night still didn’t add up, but none of it mattered. Not compared with Jalen’s struggle to live.
He pushed through his routine for another thirty minutes and then showered and shaved. If this were a different situation, he would’ve been thrilled at the chance to have coffee with Mary Catherine. But today would be different; he could feel it. Different from how things had been the other night when they walked around his neighborhood.
The incident with Shelly last night had changed things.
Mary Catherine’s text had more of a businesslike feel. She was keeping her distance. Not that he blamed her. He really needed to call Shelly and let her know things weren’t working
out. The difficult part was Coach Wayne. His coach was also his friend, and the last thing Marcus wanted was to hurt the man’s niece.
The whole situation was complicated.
He got ready faster than he expected and found a booth at Whole Foods a few minutes earlier than eleven. A baseball cap low on his brow would keep people from recognizing him—something that was rarely a problem. He was six-three and built like an athlete. But in a city like Los Angeles, Marcus didn’t stand out unless he was in uniform.
Five minutes later he watched Mary Catherine arrive and he felt a little dizzy. The girl had captured his attention and maybe even his heart. No matter how poorly last night had gone, no matter how sad everyone was, he couldn’t put into words how great it was to see Mary Catherine now.
She spotted him and as she approached she seemed to do her best to avoid a hug. They walked together to the coffee bar, poured their drinks, and then returned to the booth. “I heard from Shamika on the way in.” Mary Catherine took the spot opposite him. “No change for Jalen.”
“No.” Marcus leaned his forearms on the table and waited. The fact that the child had taken the bullet intended for him was still more than he could bear. He stared at his drink and after a long moment he took a sip.
“Thanks for meeting.” She seemed less comfortable than she’d been the other night. The shooting had deeply affected them all. “Last night, after I visited with Shamika, I went to the chapel.”
“On the ICU floor?”
Mary Catherine nodded. “It’s small. I was the only one
there. At least at first.” Her tone was intent, as if whatever was coming was very serious. “When I finished praying, I opened my eyes and there was a police officer there. Sitting across the aisle from me.”
“Charlie Kent?”
“No.” She put her hands around her cup of coffee. “His name was Jag. Officer Jag, that’s what he called himself.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t get his full name.”
Marcus wished he’d worn a sweatshirt. The morning had been cold for Southern California. Not quite sixty degrees yet. They were inside, but a chill hung over the Whole Foods booth. “Jag. Sounds familiar.”
“He said he wasn’t from here.” She looked out the window and then back at Marcus. “He told me about a new program. It’s called Last Time In. He wanted me to tell you about it.”
Strange
,
Marcus thought,
that he’d find Mary Catherine and ask her to bring the message.
“Why didn’t he come tell me himself?”
“He was in a hurry.”
“Oh.” Marcus wasn’t sure where this was going or why the officer wanted him to know. “Tell me about the program.”
Mary Catherine pulled some paperwork from her purse. “I stopped by the police station on my way here.” She spread the documents on the table in front of her. “Charlie Kent gave me this. It looks amazing.”
For the next ten minutes Mary Catherine went over the information. The program was created by a couple of police officers, looking for an alternative to the Scared Straight program. “Prison is always scary, of course.” Mary Catherine
sounded more relaxed than when she first arrived. “But this takes kids beyond the scared part.”
The program involved a prison tour with volunteers acting as chaperones. Police guards would introduce a group of young offenders to actual prisoners. “So they get a realistic picture of prison?” Marcus liked that part. There had to be a sense of reality if the program was going to make a difference.
“Definitely.” Mary Catherine turned to the last page of the paperwork. “What makes it different is the group meetings after the prison tour.”
Apparently the meetings were run by the same people who volunteered as chaperones. “I’m assuming the volunteers have to be cleared by police?” Marcus looked up, straight into Mary Catherine’s eyes. She was more beautiful every day. At least it seemed that way.
“Yes, and trained.” Mary Catherine took another drink of her coffee. “It’s freezing in here.”
“I know.” He held his cup and let the steam warm his face. “I have an idea.” He stood and nodded to the store. “I’ll be right back.”
Marcus jogged to the clothing section at the front of the store. His leg didn’t hurt as bad as it had this morning. In no time he found two navy blue sweatshirts with white writing that said simply, “Live Life.”
Perfect
, he told himself. He grabbed a small for her and a large for himself, paid for them, and hurried back to the booth.
“Here.” He handed her the small one. “Maybe now we can actually think.”
She laughed and the sound was music to his soul. There hadn’t been a reason even to smile since last night. “Thank
you.” She took it from him, removed the tags, and slipped it over her head. “Mmmm. Much better.” Her smile remained. “I love impulsive.”
“I figured.” He put his sweatshirt on and instantly felt better. “Okay. Where were we?” He had to be careful around her. She had a way of making him forget what he was doing, what he was saying.
“The program.” She furrowed her brow, like she was trying to find the serious place from a few minutes ago. “So, it’s all voluntary. The kids have to sign up, and they have to agree to the weekly meetings. Volunteers can share their faith as long as they’re clear about it up front. It’s up to the kids and their guardians if that type of counseling will work for them. The group meetings are very loosely structured. More of a time for kids to open up.”
Marcus was starting to understand. “So Bible study could be a part of the group meetings?”
“Exactly. It’s a private program. Police involvement is voluntary and outside official work hours.” She looked at the paperwork on the table and then at him again. “As long as the kids agree to be led by that volunteer, then the group can take whatever direction of encouragement everyone agrees on.”
“Wow. Amazing.” Marcus hadn’t heard of anything like it. “So this officer, he wanted me to know?”
“He did.” Mary Catherine took a sip of her drink and then sat back, pensive. “Last Time In costs around ten grand. Without that there’s no program. Maybe Officer Jag thought you could help.”
“Of course.” Marcus leaned forward, his arms on the table. Mary Catherine looked adorable in her sweatshirt.
She could’ve designed it herself. He forced himself to focus. “I can get the money to Officer Kent today. Is that how it works?”
“Actually”—she smiled—“it’s taken care of. Don’t worry about it.”
Marcus was surprised. But the topic seemed off limits. Maybe one day he would be close enough to Mary Catherine to know where the money had come from and what other secrets she hadn’t shared. He guessed there were many. “Great.” He nodded. “So how do I help?”
“You chaperone.” Mary Catherine looked straight at him. “Charlie Kent says most of the kids from the streets love you. Whatever you tell them to do, they’ll do it.”
“Not Dwayne Davis.” He raised his brow.
“But his girlfriend, Lexy Jones. She’s a different story.” Mary Catherine began folding up the papers in front of her. “Police think she made the call, the one that tipped off the department about the fact that someone from the WestKnights wanted you dead.”
“His girlfriend?” Marcus tried to imagine that life.
Over the next few minutes Mary Catherine explained more of the details. The police wanted to offer Lexy a chance at the Last Time In program. “It’s either that or she serves five years. At least. She was in the passenger seat when Dwayne fired.” Mary Catherine frowned. “Even if she tried to save your life by tipping off the police.”
“Has anyone talked to Lexy about it?” Marcus liked the idea. If someone could reach the girl now, it might change her life. It might save it.
“No. She’s in jail for now.”
Marcus remembered something he hadn’t asked Charlie Kent. “How old were these kids?”
“Dwayne’s eighteen. They have evidence he committed at least two other murders. He can be tried as an adult, so he’s probably looking at life.” Mary Catherine sighed. “Lexy . . . she’s just sixteen.”
“Man.” Marcus shook his head. He looked down at his empty cup. The problem was so much bigger than he ever imagined.
God, whatever You want me to do, I’ll do it.
He met Mary Catherine’s eyes again. “If you’re asking if I’ll volunteer, the answer is yes.”
“Good.” Her smile started in her eyes. “I told them I would, too. I’ll talk to Sami and Tyler later. They’d be perfect. The whole program takes about four weeks. It’s one Saturday and then eight weeknights.”
“Perfect. I leave for spring training February eighth.” Marcus felt his hope surge. He checked the calendar on his phone. “The timing couldn’t be better.”
“So . . . that’s why we had to meet today.” She looked hesitant. “Training starts tomorrow at noon and again Friday night. Saturday is the prison tour. Not a lot of warning.” She paused. “I guess usually the volunteers are family or friends of the kids who go through the program. The police volunteers oversee it, but the others who help out usually have a personal reason why they’re involved.”
Marcus uttered a sad chuckle. “I guess after last night we’re qualified.”
“Yes.” Mary Catherine slid the folded documents across the table. “Look these over.” She checked the time on her phone. “I have to run. If you don’t hear from me, I’ll see you
tomorrow night at the police station a few blocks from the youth center. The one on Fourth.”
Apparently their time together was over. Marcus stood and waited while Mary Catherine stepped out of the booth. Again she seemed in too much of a hurry for a hug. She did smile, though. “Thanks for meeting. I think this will help. Really.”
“I hope so.” Marcus didn’t have time to say anything else. She was already distancing herself from him. “Thanks for including me.” He raised his hand. “See you tomorrow.”
She waved and then turned and headed for the exit. Before he had time to think of what to do next she was gone. He picked up the papers from the table and slipped them into the back pocket of his jeans. There was still so much more he wanted to say. He would’ve wondered whether the last hour had happened at all if not for two things. His navy sweatshirt with the words “Live Life.”
And the faint smell of her perfume.
SHE COULDN’T HAVE
stayed another moment. Mary Catherine rushed across the parking lot to her car and left in record time. Another minute with Marcus and she would’ve cracked. She would’ve asked him why Shelly had been there last night and what he was doing with a girl he didn’t really care about.
Her eyes would’ve given her away and Marcus would’ve known for sure what she was feeling. How she had never felt more drawn to a guy in all her life. She had tried to talk her
self out of everything she felt for him. Nothing about it made sense, and most certainly nothing would ever come from it.
But until she could figure herself out, she couldn’t allow Marcus to know any of this.
Not until she was home did she remember the sweatshirt. She looked down and thought again of the sweet, impulsive moment. Marcus running through the store getting them both warmer clothes. Once she was inside she looked at herself in the mirror.
Marcus had no idea how apropos the message was. “Live Life.” Yes, that’s exactly what she needed to do. And she needed to do so without thinking about Marcus Dillinger. Especially over the next few days.
Treat him like a brother
, she told herself. Yes, she had to learn to think about Marcus differently, stop herself from reacting every time she was with him.
No matter what her heart had to say about it.
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