You Belong to Me (62 page)
Her breath caught in her throat. ‘You don’t have to do that for me.’
‘I’m not. It’s for me.’ He smiled. ‘I’d like to be close so I can come hear you play.’
She took his hand. ‘You know, I’ve been known to give private concerts.’
‘Have you now?’
‘I have indeed.’
He eyed her cast. ‘The stilettos are out for a while, but how about the dress?’
Lucy smiled. ‘I think that can be arranged.’
Epilogue
Saturday, November 6, 10.30 P.M.
‘
S
he’s back.’
JD glanced up at the grimly satisfied and very relieved face of Thomas Thorne. Then he turned his eyes back to the stage where Lucy played her electric violin with the band for the first time since that day in May when so many lives had been irrevocably changed.
‘Indeed,’ JD said. ‘She is back.’
And she was. After almost six months’ recuperation, Lucy was on the stage looking like nothing had changed. Like she hadn’t nearly been killed. Like she hadn’t seen her father executed before her eyes. Like she hadn’t learned things about her family that she could have lived a lifetime without knowing.
She was up there in black leather and stiletto heels, playing with the same fire and intensity that had made him fall. Irrevocably. And he was so damn glad he had.
‘She sounds the same,’ Thorne said proudly. ‘Not a sour note in the piece.’
‘She’s been practicing,’ JD said. Every night. He much preferred her practicing now that she no longer wore the cast, because it always left him wanting more. Much more.
They’d managed to get creative around the cast, but the day she’d had it removed had been cause for much celebration. Still, it had taken her months more to get back to normal.
Not one of the cheering fans would know that in the last six months she’d worked her ass off in physical therapy to be able to steadily stand for long hours at the table in the autopsy suite or for agonizing minutes next to a grieving family as she did the identifications.
And nobody would know what those identifications took out of her. JD knew, because he was there in the still of the night when the grief she witnessed every day became too much to bear. That’s when she turned to him, holding fast until the wave of sadness passed.
And she did the same for him. After six months in Homicide he’d yet to have a case that came close to the one that had brought them together – for which he was very thankful. There was a lot of paperwork, a lot of waiting, a lot of asking the same kinds of questions. The notifications were the worst part – that personal moment with the victims’ family in which he was forced to tear apart their world. This he had in common with Lucy and it was the days he had to notify a family that he tended to need her the most.
She’d made him whole and happy and he wasn’t sure what he’d done before she’d stumbled across a murder scene and into his life. It didn’t really matter what he’d done before. He didn’t have to do without her now.
She looked up then, and met his eyes across the crowded club. Her smile was private and knowing and made him instantly hard as a rock. Then her gaze shifted, her eyes widening.
JD followed her line of sight, as did Thorne. It was Gwyn. She’d come out of the office and was standing along the back curtain, alone, her expression stony. But her eyes held pain, just as they had for six months. She’d slept with a monster who’d murdered so many.
‘She hasn’t smiled in six months,’ Thorne said, his booming voice gone deep and quiet.
‘Has she seen the therapist Stevie recommended?’ JD asked.
‘I don’t think so. She keeps to herself, comes in, does the books. Keeps my calendar for court. But she doesn’t perform. Doesn’t socialize. I even got her new bullwhips, but she didn’t care. It’s like she’s not in there anymore.’
‘She’s there,’ JD said. Over the months he had come to actually like the oversized defense attorney. Thorne loved both Lucy and Gwyn like a brother and that was a mark in his favor in JD’s book. ‘Gwyn’s got to find her way back on her own.’
The music came to a crashing climax and then there were only cheers and whistles and chants for more. Gwyn silently disappeared behind the curtain without a smile or a word.
‘She’ll go back to the office until it’s time to go home,’ Thorne said sadly.
To the apartment with three deadbolts on the door and extra locks on every window. And a gun in her closet. JD knew because he’d put the locks on for her, hoping a feeling of safety would prompt her return to those who loved her. But it hadn’t and Gwyn had withdrawn into the overlocked fortress.
‘Lucy worries about her,’ JD said. ‘But there doesn’t seem to be anything we can do.’
‘I worry about them both,’ Thorne confessed. ‘Has Lucy been out to see her mother?’
‘Yeah,’ JD said. ‘She went out there the first day she could walk after getting the cast off. The orthopedist gave her a cane and she got up to her mother’s stoop at the same time Sonny Westcott was leaving his house. It was awkward.’
Thorne made an angry face. ‘I’ll bet.’
‘Sonny’s walking with a cane too. Evan did some real damage to his spine. Anyway, Sonny stood on his mother’s stoop glaring for a minute. Lucy glared back. If it had come to a fight, I would have put my money on her.’
Sonny Westcott had, as JD had predicted, remained mute on the question of his involvement in the murder of Ricky Joyner. The only satisfaction was knowing that the entire town knew what he’d done and what he was. He’d never hold a law enforcement position again.
And Sonny Westcott now lived with his mother. That might be worse than prison.
‘No question,’ Thorne agreed. ‘Lucy versus Sonny, Lucy every time. How was she after seeing her mother?’
JD sighed. ‘I’m glad she saw Sonny on the way in. After a few hours with her mother, she was whipped. It’ll take a lot of work for the two of them to have the most basic of relationships.’
Kathy Trask had been, by turns, wildly emotional and coldly withdrawn. Lucy had been right – her mother’s physical and mental health was very fragile. Their conversation had been painfully mundane. ‘But Lucy tried,’ JD said. ‘We went back again today, then we’ll go out there on Thanksgiving to take her out for dinner.’ After they had their main dinner at Stevie’s house. ‘When we left today, we went by Ron Trask’s grave.’
‘I’m glad I wasn’t there,’ Thorne said quietly. ‘I might have spit on it.’
‘I wanted to,’ JD said. ‘I think Lucy did too. She just stood there for the longest time, staring at this amazingly expensive headstone her mother had commissioned, then she walked away. I don’t think she’ll be going back anytime soon.’
Thorne pointed. ‘Here she is.’ Lucy had made her way through the guests on the floor and looked up into Thorne’s face, her expression desolate.
‘I want to make Gwyn better, Thorne, but she won’t let me.’ Lucy sighed. ‘And don’t tell me she needs time. I know she needs time.’
Thorne pressed a kiss to her forehead. ‘Then I’ll tell you that you did great out there. I’m so glad you’re back.’
‘I’m glad to be back.’ She looked over at JD. ‘Did you tell him?’
‘No. I thought you’d want to.’
Thorne’s dark brows went way up. ‘Tell me what?’
Shyly, Lucy lifted her hand and Thorne’s face lit up in a smile. In that moment JD was very glad Thorne loved the two women like a brother, because otherwise JD might have become a very jealous man. Thorne gave the ring on her hand a dramatic assessment.
‘It’s a frickin’ rock of Gibraltar, Luce. Why didn’t I see it on your hand from way over there on the stage?’
Lucy blushed. ‘I didn’t have it on when I was playing. I’m not used to the feel of it on my hand yet.’
‘I guess not,’ Thorne teased. ‘Plus you could blind the customers if it reflects the wrong way. When is the day?’
‘In May,’ Lucy said. ‘Second Saturday, hold the date. I want to tell Gwyn. Do you think it’s okay?’
Thorne hesitated. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘Just don’t be hurt if she doesn’t respond the way you want her to. She’ll come around, but she’ll need time.’
Lucy squared her shoulders. ‘Well, I need a maid of honor, so here goes.’
She marched herself to the office and slipped in the door, knocking after she was already in the room. If she’d knocked before, Gwyn might have told her to go away. It had happened.
Gwyn looked up, her brows furrowed. Then she smoothed the frown into a placidly bland expression. ‘You played well, Lucy,’ she said quietly. ‘We haven’t had a full house in weeks. People were waiting for you to come back.’
Lucy sat next to the desk, glancing at the spreadsheets Thorne had always managed. Gwyn had been hiding back in the office for months. Ever since she’d learned she’d been played by a master. ‘I went to my father’s grave today.’
Gwyn’s eyes narrowed. ‘I would have spit on it.’
‘I did,’ Lucy said, then shrugged when Gwyn’s brows shot up. ‘I thought about it,’ she amended. ‘I needed to go for me. For closure, whatever the hell that is.’
Gwyn glanced at Lucy’s hand. ‘You have new bling,’ she said carefully.
Lucy stared down at her finger. ‘JD proposed. I said yes.’ She looked up, met Gwyn’s eyes. ‘I want you to be my maid of honor. I want you to sing at my wedding.’
Gwyn let out a very quiet sigh. ‘I’d be happy to be the maid. But get someone else to sing. Lucy,’ she said between her teeth when Lucy started to protest. ‘Get someone else to sing. I’m not going to. I can’t. Not yet. Please respect that.’
Lucy nodded, relieved and dismayed at once. ‘Are you angry with me?’
Gwyn’s eyes filled. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I’m happy for you. I need you to believe that.’
Lucy’s broken leg and ribs had mended, but Gwyn’s heart had not. ‘I believe you.’
Gwyn grabbed Lucy’s hand. ‘We have a lot of planning to do. Leave it all to me. You’ll have the best wedding in the history of forever. You’ll have the reception here, of course.’
Lucy sat back as Gwyn put the club’s books away and began to make a list. Gwyn filled up a page with to-do items, then her pencil stilled and her shoulders sagged. ‘Stop looking at me like that. I’m okay.’ One side of her mouth lifted in a sad parody of her old smile. ‘I will be okay. You’ll see. For now, I have to plan what will be the happiest goddamn day of your entire life.’ She waved her hand at the door. ‘Leave me to make a list. You’re on in five.’
Lucy closed the office door behind her, unsurprised to find JD waiting for her outside.
‘How’d it go?’ he asked and she shrugged.
‘Better than I thought.’
He dipped his head to kiss her gently but thoroughly. ‘Better still?’
‘Yes, much better.’ Once again he’d softened the edge of her worry. She lifted on her toes to kiss him again, still surprised at the instant yearning that welled up inside of her every time he touched her. ‘I love you,’ she whispered against his mouth and felt him smile.
‘I love you too.’ He ran his hands down her back, closing over her rear end. ‘I keep thinking of the last time I kissed you here, in the club.’
Her body grew warm. She hadn’t been cold in six months. ‘If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, you can stop thinking it right now. It’s November. It’s too cold for an alley.’
JD grinned, his dimples appearing, making her wish it were twenty degrees warmer. ‘Then I can’t wait for spring.’
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