Operation Breathless (2 page)

Susanna chuckled; her tears began to dry. “That’s OK. I believe you. But I have nothing to offer in return. That hardly seems fair.”

Her attempt at levity prompted his steady regard. Everything about him beckoned her forward…and that was unheard of for the generally shy and conservative Susanna Daniels.

“Don’t worry about that. If I see a lasting smile on your face before we part ways, that’ll be more than enough. Deal?”

Wow. Well said
. “Deal.”

She continued to look into his eyes, unapologetic about scrutinizing. The heat of a blush worked upward against her shoulders and neck until she glanced away and took a restorative breath.

Silence trickled past.

The bench they shared was small. An intriguing scent of musk—his scent perhaps?—was accompanied by the aroma of cool earth that carried to her on a gust of air. Leaf chatter and bird-song filled the air. Beauty lived in the hearty, colorful forms of nature that filled the park following a brutal summer and a moist, vibrant fall. Comfort and peace surrounded her. That’s not exactly what she had expected from her visit to Falls Park, but she’d certainly take it. Axle flopped down into a sprawl on a patch of grass in front of the bench.

Handsome Man leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head and Susanna could feel him taking her in. Surprisingly, she enjoyed the sensation.

“What happened?”

“Do you want the long version?” After he nodded, she curved her lips and lifted a brow. “OK, but you’ve been warned.”

“Yep, I have.”

Susanna crossed her legs and relaxed against the back of the bench. Her movements caused Axle’s ears to perk, and he lifted his head for a second or two. “My day began innocently enough, with a simple trip to the drugstore.”

“Then what happened?”

“The bomb blast hit.”

“Always start with the lead. What was the bomb blast?”

“I was nearly arrested a few hours ago.”

Handsome Man blinked hard. His brows knit while a breeze danced through the waves of his jet hair. “OK—now for the in-depth part…ah…quickly, if you don’t mind.”

Susanna chuckled at his tone of mock alarm. “Don’t worry. You’re not consorting with a known felon. I didn’t break the law, unless you consider the fact that I can’t seem to do my job very well a criminal act.” He didn’t reply to that rejoinder, so Susanna kept talking. She was a psychologist. She knew how things worked. Venting would help her cope. “I’m the director of a counseling and rehab center for teenagers who find themselves in trouble with the law. It’s called Wellsprings of Grace.”

“I love the name of the center, but that can’t be an easy job.”

“I do, too. It’s a fitting moniker. Mostly.”

“Just mostly?”

Susanna lifted her face to the sun, absorbing a bit of its warmth. “Like I said, I’m in a place where I’m not feeling very good about what I’m doing with my life right now.”

“Then I guess that leads us back to the bomb blast.”

“Guess it does.” Susanna blew out a breath through pursed, trembling lips, then decided to just let the words flow. “All I needed to do was pick up a few things at the store. I just wanted to run a few errands, so I asked one of the kids…let’s call her Jane Doe…to come with me.”

“OK, so what’s Jane Doe’s story?”

That’s right—he was a stranger. He had no idea of the history, the details. Susanna forced herself away from a weird netherworld of reliving what had happened, the sadness that followed. “Jane is one of the teenagers I’m working with at the moment. She’s led a horrific life, some of it through no fault of her own, but that’s a story for another park bench on another day.”

“I’m already looking forward to it.” Handsome Man shot her a tender smile. “Go on, ma’am.”

She giggled for the second time in mere minutes. That felt wonderful, too. “You
are
a cop, aren’t you?”

“For real. Remember—badge and everything.” Once again he reached for his back jeans pocket.

Susanna swatted playfully at his arm and came upon solid muscle and stability.
Very nice
.

“So…Jane. Tell me what happened today with Jane.”

“She tried to frame me.”

The humorous glint left his eyes. In a pulse beat, his features hardened to stone.

Susanna nodded in response to his unspoken reaction. “Yeah. That’s right. She wanted to hijack some cosmetics. Can you believe that? Without me knowing it, she slipped a bottle of ruby red nail polish and a palate of fawn brown eye shadow into the bottomless pit of my purse.” Loosely she gestured toward the white leather bag that rested beneath the bench. “How could I have been so trusting? So naïve?”

“If she pulled a stunt like that, she needs to be in jail. She needs to learn a lesson.”

“Jail isn’t always the answer.”

Handsome Man flexed his jaw, as though fighting the urge to argue. “What happened next?”

“I paid for my items, we walked out of the store, and alarm bells went off. I hadn’t done anything wrong, so I wasn’t worried. I went straight back to the counter with my bags and my receipt. At that point the store manager stepped up and asked me to empty my purse.” Susanna shrugged. “I had nothing to hide. I dumped the contents of my purse across the counter and there were the stolen items.”

Her companion scowled.

“My stunned expression did nothing to assure the manager; my pleas of innocence fell on deaf ears, because, of course, criminals can be great actors.”

The scowl deepened. “What was Jane Doe doing during all of this?”

“Standing there—watching—embarrassed to be seen in the company of a shoplifting guardian.”

“Wow.”

“She didn’t say a single word while I stammered and rambled and swore I’d never seen those pilfered cosmetics in my life. That’s when the manager mentioned surveillance cameras.”

“Oh, boy.”

Susanna nodded, her lips twitching. “Yep. That piece of news caused Jane to go all fidgety. She started acting funny, staring at me, chewing on her lower lip like she does when she knows she’s in trouble.”

“And?”

“And the manager took us to his office to view the video tapes. Plain as day you could see her drop the items into my purse. She found herself unequivocally busted.”

“Good. I’m glad she got caught.”

“Well, I certainly don’t feel exonerated. I wanted to show her trust; I wanted to see how far she had come in her therapy. She’s been a good kid while we’ve worked through counseling. I had high hopes.”

“How did she react once she was found out?”

Susanna looked away, swallowed back tears. She needed to stop crying. Period. “She sobbed like a baby. She sank into my arms and cried. She was trembling and so scared—”

“She
should
be scared. She should also be ashamed.”

The tough tone was warranted, but that didn’t mean Susanna had to like it. She shifted uncomfortably. “You’re a policeman. You know better than anyone that situations with teenagers aren’t ever that simple and uncomplicated.”

“Fair enough, but when you’re talking about shoplifters and petty thieves, I can tell you first hand the evidence shows when you lower the hammer right away it nips bad behavior in the bud. A night in jail, a police record, and some hefty fines might have shocked her back into reality.”

“Jail isn’t always the answer,” Susanna reiterated. She spoke calmly, but with utter conviction. “I know this girl. Her pattern of behavior is to act out and push. She strikes before she can be stricken. If she ends up in jail, I doubt she’ll have a way to recover—emotionally or financially. That’s what Wellsprings of Grace is for; that kind of support is what I’m all about.” She heaved a sigh. “With that, I’m sure you can understand why I’m feeling so defeated, and empty. Here you are, a man who helps uphold the law, and even
you
can see the futility of what I do.”

Along the pedestrian path before them, a little boy blasted by at full speed, a wad of string unraveling from his hand; a bouncing, rippling kite of rainbow-colored Mylar launched into the sky behind him as he ran. Susanna watched the youngster, which brought her gaze into direct alignment with Handsome Man, who also tracked the boy’s progress.

“Your work is far from futile. Don’t mind me. I’m afraid I’ve become jaded.” He looked straight ahead where Susanna could see ducks flap restless wings against the dark green waters of a small lake. “That colors my point of view. Thing is, sometimes the patterns you’re describing don’t change. What happens then?”

His flat delivery convicted her further. Susanna’s shoulders slumped. Prickles of pain and moisture built at the corners of her eyes, the foreshadowing of more tears. She steeled herself and bit them back. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Here’s a piece of irony for you. So am I.”

“Really?” Susanna sidelined her own troubles for a moment—no small miracle—to wonder about the man seated next to her. She itched to know more about this intriguing stranger. What was his name? Where was he from?

Before she could pursue those inquiries, he nodded. “I don’t want to demean you. Please, keep fighting the good fight and keep faith. Don’t let circumstances defeat you. The world could use millions more just like you.” Her hand rested against the edge of the bench; he covered it with his. His callous-roughened touch was light and gentle. “I imagine you’re very gifted, and believe me, I’m nobody’s judge and jury.”

“You quoted the first book of Timothy.”

He looked at her with wide eyes and a surprised expression. “It’s one of my favorite Bible verses.
Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called.
”

“Nicely done. From memory no less.”

“Those words are inscribed on a plaque that sits on my desk at work. I see them, and they help me every day.”

He didn’t remove his hand. The sensation of connection played like a gentle, fluid bow against the string of her senses. “It’s time for you to reciprocate. Tell me your story.”

He shook his head.

The reaction prompted Susanna to do something uncharacteristic for her—she turned her hand, palm up, and took hold. “Come on. Strangers are awesome, two ears with no waiting, and all that.”

His laughter sang through the air. “You’re good at this. In fact, you’re very good.”

“Stop detracting.”

“See, you’re proving my point.”

“Stop detracting, part two.”

Axle lifted his head and let out a half-hearted whoop.

“My story.” He shifted comfortably and scratched behind Axle’s ears.”Well, I’ll start with the fact that I haven’t been in town for a while.”

“Welcome to Angel Falls.”

“Thanks. Welcome home would be an appropriate greeting as well. I’m born and raised, but I moved away for a few years. Arriving in town today feels good, but that’s not really the point of our discussion, is it?”

“No, exploring the irony of our life circumstances is. Tell me about yours.”

He shrugged and went quiet for a time. “I’m looking for a fresh start…kind of a walking cliché, I’m sad to say.”

“How so?”

The way he shrugged appeared casual—on the surface. Susanna looked deeper, though, and came upon turbulent eyes, a troubled expression he couldn’t quite mask. “I’m a burned out cop looking for reclamation and a fresh start.”

“What burned you out?”

“Traveling through the badlands.”

The words rang with such finality Susanna thought he might stop there and divert himself. She kept quiet and waited—a counseling technique she favored when seeking information from a reluctant source.

“In my time away from Angel Falls, I’ve dealt with big city crime and everything that goes with it: drugs, gangs, guns. The kind of violence that turns stomachs every night on the news is what I lived and breathed for the past five years. I’ve reached a point where I just can’t do it anymore.”

Something tender ripped apart within Susanna’s spirit. How could a man who struck her as so remarkable be so desolate? “What tipped the scale?”

“My bomb blast?”

Susanna nodded and encouraged him with a smile.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Positive.”

He searched her eyes so intimately Susanna experienced the sensation of drifting into him, connected in a way far beyond the physical touch of their entwined fingers.

“My partner and I disrupted a battle over drugs. He took a solid hit to the shoulder. I’m alive right now only because of Kevlar.”

Susanna gasped.

“I took a shot to the arm.” He pushed up his right shirtsleeve, revealing a snow-white bandage.

Susanna covered her mouth with her free hand. “I’m so sorry!” She didn’t even know the man, but she longed to reach out and stroke gentle fingertips against the covered wound, to assure him, somehow, of goodness and grace. Healing.

“There were four teenagers—”

“Teenagers.” Susanna breathed the word.

He gave a short, solemn nod. “We received the call as they were coming to blows over a delivery of heroin. Heroin seems to have reemerged as a go-to drug these days, especially in the inner city where dealers can score the drug and sell it in the suburbs, to the so-called rich kids.”

“Evil executing a win-win proposition.” Susanna groaned and sighed, understanding his frustration. While Angel Falls didn’t see the same level of problems as the big cities, drug use seemed to be reasserting a stranglehold across the map. She battled evidence of that truth every day at Wellsprings.

“Exactly. The kids were divided—two on each side, each affiliated with gangs that were ready and able to peddle that garbage to schools, workplaces, even parks just like this one.” Disgust layered his tone.

Susanna didn’t fault the reaction.

“It was dark, and we moved fast, but when we secured the scene—conducting pat downs, cuffing the two leaders—chaos ensued. One of the kids grabbed the briefcase of drugs we confiscated and took off. We moved to stop him. That’s when the guy being restrained by my partner broke free. He recovered his gun and fired. He didn’t care that we were cops.”

“I can’t begin to imagine.” She shivered. “Where else did you get hit?”