ONE SMALL VICTORY (30 page)

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Authors: Maryann Miller

Tags: #crime drama, #crime thriller, #mystery and suspense, #romantic suspense, #womens fiction

BOOK: ONE SMALL VICTORY
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Jenny reached for the sugar bowl, trying to
figure a good place to start a conversation. “Did you watch the
news last night?”

Carol frowned. “What?”

“Did you watch the news? Local?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Jenny stirred her coffee, the clink of the
spoon the only sound in the room for a long moment.

Carol frowned. “Was there something signi—?”
She stopped, seemed to consider for a moment, then gave Jenny a
searching look. “That ... that drug bust. That’s what you’ve been
doing?”

Jenny nodded.

The reality seemed to push Carol back in her
chair. She was so still, Jenny wondered if the woman had stopped
breathing. She leaned forward and touched her hand. “Carol?”

She took a deep, gasping breath. “How?
What—?”

Jenny gave her a more condensed version of
what she’d told Scott last night. When she was finished, Carol
stared at her with wide, wondering eyes, then shook her head. “Wow.
You really did do the Wonder Woman gig.”

Jenny smiled. “Yup. Superhero Jenny.”

The banter felt good. So good that she
considered just skipping the part about George. Maybe that
situation could work itself out without her interference.

Carol grabbed the decanter of cognac and
splashed a bit more in her cup. “I’m still having such a hard time
getting my mind around it all.”

“Me, too.” Jenny reached for the bottle to
add more to her coffee. “But you do understand you can’t tell
anyone.”

“Not even George?”

Oh, God. Definitely not George
. “No
one. Period. I’m only telling you because I put you through so much
hell. And you are one of the few people I know who will actually
respect the need for discretion.”

Carol took another swallow of her drink. “You
could’ve told me sooner.”

“It wasn’t allowed.”

“I can keep a secret.”

A hint of petulance accompanied that
statement and Jenny sighed. “It wasn’t about friendship, or trust.
It was about safety.”

Carol pushed her mug in a slow circle on the
table. Jenny reached across and stopped the movement. “That was the
worst part. Hiding it. Lying to everyone. I hated it.”

After another long moment Carol looked up
with a half-smile. “Did you wear the steel bra?”

It took a second for Jenny to make the
connection, then she burst out laughing. “Couldn’t find one small
enough.”

“I still can’t believe you did that.” Carol
picked up her mug. “I mean, I believe you. You don’t lie—”

Carol stopped, and Jenny filled in the blank.
”Only when I have to.”

Relief brushed over her like a warm summer
breeze when Carol chuckled again before asking, “Were you
scared?”

“Shitless.”

Carol fiddled with her cup again, tilting it
one way, then another. Jenny wondered what she was thinking, but
hesitated to ask. She didn’t want to invite more recriminations.
Then Carol released the cup and stood. “I’m hungry.” She walked to
the refrigerator. “Does chocolate fudge ripple go with cognac?”

“Chocolate goes with everything”

Carol dished out two heaping bowls of ice
cream and brought them back. “I guess I shouldn’t be mad at you. At
least it’s all over now.”

Jenny almost choked. This was the point of no
return. Either she tell Carol now about George or let her friend
charge blindly into God knows what. “Not exactly,” she said.

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly?’”

“It’s not all over.” Jenny took a breath. “I
found out something about George.”

Carol looked up. “What?”

Jenny hedged, studying the little stream of
ice-cream that ran down the side of her bowl. “It’s not good.”

“What?” A touch of alarm widened Carol’s
eyes. “You don’t mean about this drug mess?”

Again, Jenny hesitated for just a breath,
then said. “We made a delivery to his house one night.”

‘No.” Carol stood and pushed away from the
table with such force her bowl slid off the end and crashed in a
mess of broken pottery and brown globs of ice-cream.

Jenny jumped up to grab a rag. Carol glared.
“Don’t touch my ice-cream.”

Still not sure that telling had been the
right thing to do; Jenny watched her friend’s face contort as she
seemed to process the facts. “Maybe he was away,” Carol finally
said in a soft whisper. “Somebody else was at his house.”

As much as she hated to, Jenny knew she had
to dispel that hope. “He stepped into the light. I saw him.”

“No. Don’t say that.” Carol leaned against
the wall and shook her head. “It can’t be true.”

Jenny crossed the space between then in two
quick strides, but when she reached out to Carol, the woman held
her back with a raised palm. They stood for a moment, eyes locked,
then Carol closed hers and moaned.

Not sure if physical contact would send her
friend skittering away, Jenny risked a touch on her arm. Carol
didn’t move. Her breathing had turned into gasping sobs.

Slowly, Jenny slipped an arm around the
woman. “Before, when I said the deceit was the worst part? I lied.”
She stroked the soft flannel on her friend’s back. “This is the
worst part.”

The tears ran in rivers down Carol’s cheeks,
pooling momentarily in the hollow of her laugh lines, then spilling
over. She turned into Jenny and clung to her. Now it was like
sophomore year of college. That time when some jerk had walked out
on Carol. Now, as before, Jenny didn’t know what words might ease
the hurt.

When the sobs abated, Carol pulled back and
swiped at the moisture on her cheeks. “What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you turn him in?”

Jenny shook her head.

“Why not?” Carol dug in a pocket and pulled
out a crumpled tissue.

“God knows, I thought about it.” Jenny
shrugged. “But I just couldn’t.”

Carol dabbed at her nose. “What about
now?”

“Eventually I’ll have to tell. Unless someone
rolls on him first.”

After the words were out, Jenny bit back a
laugh.
Jeeze, no more Law & Order reruns for you
. She
guided her friend to a chair, then sat down next to her. “But you
need a chance to work things out first.”

“You don’t feel some moral imperative to
clean him up, too?”

It was part question and part challenge, and
Jenny wasn’t sure how to respond. She could laugh, which might
diffuse the tension. Or she could throw out some snippy remark that
would make Carol good and mad. Would anger help make her
strong?

Jenny touched her friend on the arm. “My
imperative is over. Yours is just beginning.”

~*~

When Jenny got back home, Scott met her at
the back door. “Thought you were staying home now that your secret
life is over.”

“And I thought you weren’t going to nag me
anymore.”

“You’re right.” He smiled. “Where were
you?”

“I had to talk to Carol.” Jenny hung her coat
on the peg by the door and entered the kitchen. “You want some hot
chocolate? We haven’t really had a chance to talk since the other
night.”

“I’d rather have coffee.”

Jenny stopped and considered this son who
more closely resembled a man than a boy. “When did you start
drinking coffee?”

“It’s not official yet. Still testing it
out.”

Thankful that he didn’t take the opportunity
to wound her with a reminder that had she been around more the past
few months, she might have witnessed the beginning of the testing,
Jenny got out the makings for a pot of decaf.

When it was brewed and they’d both laced mugs
liberally with milk and sugar, Jenny took a warming swallow and sat
down at the table. Scott sat across from her and stirred his coffee
in slow, steady swirls. “I didn’t tell you. But Dad called me last
week.”

“So you knew he was coming?”

“No. He wanted to know if I still wanted to
come out to California.”

Jenny held her breath wondering if she even
wanted to know what Scott’s response had been. And wondering why
the hell Ralph hadn’t said anything to her. Not even sure what to
anticipate, she watched her son take the spoon out of his mug and
set it on the table. Then he took a long swallow before meeting her
gaze. “I told him no.”

“Oh.” He told him ‘no.’ And that was before
he knew the truth. “Pretty big decision you made there.”

“Yeah. But packing’s such a drag.”

A swell of emotion stung her eyes with tears
and she had to blink to hold them back.

“Dad said the offer was good any time.”

She caught just the flash of a grin before he
covered by taking another drink.

“And how long do you intend to hold me
hostage to that threat?”

Scott set his mug down and this time didn’t
try to hide the smile. “I figure it’s good at least ‘til
graduation.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, the
rain having been chased away in the night like an unwelcome guest.
For a blessed moment, Jenny was able to forget and feel nothing but
refreshing peace. Then the memories flooded back.

A picture of the dead man sliding down the
wall flashed through her mind and brought a sudden chill. Then she
remembered what Linda had told her that awful night. That it would
be like this for a while. The burst of memory and the icy hand
grabbing her heart. It would never go away, but it would lessen in
time.

And like Steve, Linda had told her to fight
the waves of guilt. “Otherwise they’ll tear you apart. You did what
you had to do. Nobody can fault you. So just keep telling yourself
that.”

Jenny played the words through her mind like
a mantra.
You did what you had to do. There was no
alternative.

Maybe she could believe that some day. But
not today.

She threw the covers off and padded into her
bathroom. She couldn’t face her reflection in the mirror. Proof
positive that she was a guilty, guilty person. Then a goofy thought
skittered across her mind. Well, goofy for her. She wasn’t a
church-going person but the impulse was strong. Maybe she could
find forgiveness in a holy place.

Yeah. Right. The building would probably fall
down. She brushed her teeth, splashed water on her face and headed
into the main part of the house.

In the early morning quiet, the emptiness of
the house was profound. There was a note on the kitchen table from
Scott. He’d gone for an early morning run.

Jenny microwaved some leftover coffee and
considered her options. For the sake of the other people who might
want to pray, she probably shouldn’t risk going to church. In her
estimation cooking was the next best thing, so she scarfed down a
quick bowl of cereal, then pulled out the ingredients to make a pot
of hamburger soup.

~*~

Jenny lifted the lid and the pungent aroma of
bay leaves rode the steam from the large kettle. She stirred the
soup, noting that she’d made enough to feed a homeless shelter for
a day. That’s the way it usually turned out. She thought she was
just putting a little bit of this and a little bit of that in it,
but all those little bits added up. She’d have to clear space in
the freezer for some of it. Oh, darn. That means eating the rest of
the ice cream for a snack.

For a moment she considered calling Scott in
to help her, but when she hefted the carton there didn’t seem to be
much weight to it. She grabbed a spoon and had just pulled the lid
off when she heard the front door open and Alicia called out, “Mom.
Mom.”

Jenny set the ice cream on the counter and
stepped into the living room. “No need to shout. I’m right
here.”

“It was so cool.” Alicia dropped her duffle
bag on the floor. “We rode horses. Both days. And Daddy wasn’t even
scared.”

“I just didn’t show it,” Ralph said with the
self-deprecating grin that had won her heart so many years ago.
“How about you? How was your, uh... weekend?”

“It was fine.”

Ralph’s expression said he wanted to hear
more, but Jenny nodded toward Alicia. He got the message.

“Can you stay?” Jenny asked. “Have dinner
before you go to the airport?”

“I should probably just go. You never know
how long it will take to go through security.”

“I keep forgetting. I haven’t had the
pleasure of airline travel since nine-eleven.” Jenny turned to
Alicia. “Scott’s in his room. Go tell him Dad’s here.”

The girl started toward the hall and Ralph
called out, “Come back here and pick up your gear.”

As Alicia complied, Jenny tried not to let
her amazement show. “That was very thoughtful. Thanks.”

Ralph shrugged. “The cabin’s too small to
sling a bunch of junk around. We worked on being neat while we were
there.”

Jenny remembered the ice-cream she’d left in
the kitchen and pictured a mess dribbling off the counter. “I’ll be
right back.”

After stowing the ice-cream back in the
freezer, Jenny returned to the living room as Scott and Ralph were
saying an awkward goodbye. Then Ralph picked up Alicia and hugged
her tight. “I’ll call soon.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Ralph put the girl down and turned toward the
front door.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Jenny said.

Ralph opened the door and they stepped out.
Then he waved one more time to the kids before starting down the
front steps. He paused at the bottom and looked up at her. “Is it
too late?”

“For what?”

“To try. With Scott and Alicia?”

The shock was so great, Jenny was afraid her
knees would buckle. She grabbed the banister on the porch.

“I know I wasn’t...” Ralph’s voice faded as
if he couldn’t put words to his failings.

If that’s what he meant. Or am I—

“Losing Michael...” Again he faltered.

Conflicting emotions threatened to tear her
in half. Anger that he still had so much trouble saying anything
significant, and anger at her impulse to help him out. That’s the
way it had always been. But she could also feel his pain...and
something else. Almost a desperation that underscored his words.
Maybe she should lead with her heart on this one. Do it for the
kids.

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