Thank you Kate for giving this a look-see (it wasn’t hard to persuade her once she knew who the "star" of the chapter was!). I had fun on my trip, but it sure is nice to be "home" with all of you!

Chapter 19

Dan took one look at the haggard face of the surgeon and knew. He didn’t need to hear the doctor say, "I’m sorry; we did everything we could..."

Anybody who happened to glance at his face in that moment might have thought he was unaffected by the news that his former partner, Raymond Carter, was dead—killed in the line of duty while attempting to arrest the same kids that Dan himself had refused to bust a week before. They would see an expressionless face set in stony lines, head slightly lowered, lips tightly compressed.

But those who knew him well would see muscles twitching in his jaw and throat, know the closed off stance for what it was—the worst kind of bleakness.

Dan forced himself to look unflinchingly at Ray’s wife—a tall, attractive woman in her late twenties, her normal air of quiet dignity gone as she let out an anguished wail at the doctor’s pronouncement. She sat with her face buried in her hands while a much older man, obviously her father, stroked her back, his dark bald head bent protectively over her. It took several moments for them to realize that Dan was silently watching them.

"I’m sorry," Dan said, mentally cursing the stupidity of words that could do nothing, change nothing, mean nothing.

Grace Carter looked blankly at him, understanding nothing except for the fact that her beloved Ray was dead. Ray had proposed by renting a billboard on the road he knew she took to work, "Marry me, Grace!" in thirty foot high letters almost causing her to swerve off the road, and now all that happy energy was gone. Gone because nobody had ever taught Ray’s killer that there were other options, that getting caught was not the worst thing that could happen to you.

"Dan?" she finally croaked, placing him as Ray’s former partner.

"Yeah. If there’s anything I can do..." he broke off, savagely thinking that his chance to do something already came and went.

For one awful moment, Grace had a similar thought, but to her credit not only was she able to read the guilt and pain flooding the man who stood before her, she understood the danger of such thinking, knew the potential destruction of misplaced anger and blame.

"There is something you can do," she said after awhile, her voice trembling. She leaned into her father, hugging his arm to herself.

"God, just name it," Dan said fervently. Her reply took him by surprise.

"You can stop thinking that you’re responsible for Ray’s...one wasted life is enough. I couldn’t really bear..." she began crying in earnest, pressing her face into her father’s shoulder. Dan appreciated the thought, but something this horrendous didn’t just happen. Point A led to point B; somebody was at fault.

"Maybe you should just leave son," the older man suggested quietly.

Dan nodded and began to walk away.

"Wait." That was all, but there was enough force in it to stop Dan in his tracks. He slowly turned around.

"Ray told me all about what you said. About those kids needing to be shown a different way of life, and why you didn’t want to arrest them that day. He respected your decision." Grace Carter straightened up and blew her nose when her father handed her a handkerchief.

Dan felt so sick he almost fell down. "He’d be alive right now if I’d done what he wanted that day." The words felt like razor blades, hurting his mouth and throat, but he owed it to her.

Grace shook her head as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. "You don’t know that. Only God knows when and why a life ends.’ Reminding herself of this would not be easy, but she knew she had to try.

Dan swallowed and replied huskily, "I’d sure like to believe that."

"Try," Grace urged. She shook her head violently. "The boy that shot my Ray is only 15 years old. They told me he cried and asked for his mother when they arrested him. Maybe if he’d gotten the help he needed sooner..." she buried her face again and Dan quietly left, slowly returning to his car as her words and his guilt played ping pong in his skull.

He drove aimlessly up one street and down another until he found himself near Joeanne’s apartment building. He was disconcerted to realize he needed to see her more than he needed his next breath, understanding that for the first time in his life, he was completely, hopelessly and utterly in love with one person, a person who managed to look stunning even in sweats and an old college t-shirt, Dan thought when Joeanne answered his knock. Harvard...Jesus, Dan’s thought continued as she regarded him in surprise. She could instantly tell that something was horribly wrong.

"Are you okay?" she asked warily, wordlessly asking him in by taking a few steps back. She wasn’t expecting him until much later.

Dan felt himself breaking and took a moment to get himself under control. "No," he admitted as he walked into the entryway. He could see her small living room off to the left, the coffee table strewn with papers and cans of Diet Coke. "You’re busy," he continued, remembering that the trial started in a few days. "I should go." He didn’t want to go.

When it came to empathy, Joeanne was on par with Diana Lynch-Belden. She could feel sorrow coming off him in waves, could almost taste it in her mouth. "It’s okay—I was just about to take a break anyway." She led him to the couch where they both sat down. "What’s happened?" she asked simply.

Dan managed a lopsided smile. "I must look pretty bad."

Joeanne relaxed her leg until her knee leaned against his. "You look like somebody’s just died," she said unthinkingly, wincing when it was obvious she struck a nerve. "Oh man, I’m such an idiot," she cried, stricken. She squeezed his shoulder in wordless apology as he told her not to worry.

"I got some very bad news today about my ex-partner."

"At the Police Department?"

Dan nodded. "Yeah. He was shot. Killed in the line of duty. Remember those kids I told you about? That I wouldn’t arrest?"

Joeanne’s eyes widened in horrified understanding. "Oh no!" she exclaimed.

"Oh yes," Dan concluded grimly.

Joeanne put her arms around him. It’s not your fault," she said, rightly guessing at part of his anguish.

"But if I’d arrested them that day, it never would have happened," Dan gritted out, pulling himself away from her. He didn’t deserve the touch of the one he loved. Grace was going without it, wasn’t she? He felt a chill where her body had briefly rested and wondered if he would ever feel warm again.

"You can’t know that," Joeanne protested.

"How can you say that?" Dan demanded. First Grace and now Joeanne. He wanted so badly to believe them.

"I can say it because it’s true. Everything happens for a reason—you did what you had to do."

"So you’re saying Ray was supposed to be gunned down? Is that what you’re saying?"

Joeanne sighed. "I’m saying that we just can’t know why certain things happen. They just do. And blaming yourself changes nothing." Her expression abruptly changed as the meaning of her own words sank in.

"Will you still feel this way if you lose this case and Sammy ends up dying?" Dan asked bluntly. He heard her sharp intake of breath and was instantly contrite. "God, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I said that."

"It’s okay," she said weakly, wondering if he could tell how much she loved him just by looking at her. If she wasn’t one hundred percent sure before, she sure was now. It’s only the ones we love the most that can hurt us, yet heal in practically the same breath.

He closed his eyes and leaned back, a heavy feeling settling like a hot brick over his chest. "Ray has a son," he muttered shakily, and it was the thought of ten-year-old Ray Junior growing up without a father that finally broke him.

He was dimly aware of his head ending up somewhere in the vicinity of her neck and shoulder, but nothing else for long moments of choking, wrenching sorrow. He hadn’t once cried when his mother died 13 years before, or when his first foster father shoved him into a wall, calling him one of God’s mistakes. He hadn’t cried when the girl he’d befriended when he first lived on the streets was killed, or when the gang he joined made him think that his only choice for survival was to break the law. Crying was a luxury he could ill afford—it was safer to pretend that nothing affected you. To care enough to cry meant leaving yourself open to all kinds of dark potential.

He cried for them all—his beautifully sad mother, his forever young father, the old man who’d begged him to just take the money, take it, take it, please don’t hurt me while he’d stood there feeling as if the world had come to an end. He wept for feeling like he was a million years older than the kids at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High when he first went there, and the helpless rage he’d felt when he couldn’t even blame Trixie for thinking he had something to do with the disappearance of Honey’s watch that time; hating himself when he made Honey cry.

He’d mugged an old man when he was 14 so that he wouldn’t have to sleep on the streets anymore.

Ray’s son would finish growing up without him because a 15-year-old boy didn’t know there were other choices for him besides mindless violence.

If Trixie and Honey hadn’t interfered, Jim would have ended up a drifter, growing hard and bitter as the years passed, his dreams of the future fading until he’d barely remember them.

Choices. Second chances. Knowing that even one person gave a damn about what happened to you. A shoulder to cry on...

Dan finally came back to himself, strangely unembarrassed considering he’d spent the past several minutes bawling all over the woman who was rubbing his back, murmuring in a soothing tone how everything would be okay. He found himself willing to believe her.

"Man, I’ve gotten you all wet," he said with a half smile as he slowly straightened up, swiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

Joeanne glanced down at her sodden t-shirt. "Tear Drops on My Boobies, a Country and Western classic. Didn’t Tammy Wynette cover that?" she gently teased.

Unbelievably, Dan felt a grin filling his face. This woman was a keeper. He didn’t care if she was still hung up on some other guy. He’d take what he could get and appreciate every moment. "You are something else, you know that?" he asked before lowering his head and kissing first her cheek then her slightly parted mouth.

The heat she’d felt the other day when he’d touched her hair returned full force and she surrendered to it with a soft moan, burying her fingers into the nape of his neck. He responded instantly, pulling her so close her pulse pounded. Richard had never spent much time kissing her, had never explored her mouth as if it was a banquet set before a starving man. Richard never tasted me, she thought dimly, his image abruptly and thankfully erased forever as Dan’s tongue eased its way into her mouth. An almost desperate need filled her and she was awed at its intensity, that she could want this much a revelation. Her head lolled back as he kissed his way down her neck, never wanting him to stop.

"Take it off," she half whispered, half moaned as his hands drifted down the sides of her shirt. She almost cried as the reverent way he groaned her name as he complied, letting her know that he was just as affected as she was. The assault on her senses continued and even though she didn’t dare hope that he loved her too, she was happy to give the comfort he so obviously needed, accepting it for what it was, deciding to cling to the fairy tale for as long as it lasted.

*     *     * 

Dan slowly came awake in the pitch black darkness, sleepily confused for a few seconds until everything came back to him in a rush—Ray’s death, Grace’s terrible grief, the unbearable guilt. Making unbelievably hot, passionate love with Joeanne...

His eyes were growing accustomed to the dark, but he could barely make her out. He felt rather than saw her lovely face resting against his chest, felt the warm tickle of her rhythmic breath against his skin as she sweetly slept. His heart constricted—he’d never felt so happy, yet the remnants of shock, grief and disbelief over his former partner’s death remained a sharp stab in his belly. But the one thing he did not feel was guilt, he realized to his surprise. The guilt had transformed into a rich pain over the senselessness of it all; two lives were destroyed today, he thought. Wasting time feeling guilty is an insult to Ray—I have to find a way to prevent this from ever happening again. Ashton, the boy he’d helped, floated into his mind for a moment and he suddenly knew what he had to do.

Joeanne stirred and wakened, breathing in Dan’s warm scent and rubbing against him like a contented cat. "Hey," she murmured, sliding up until her face pressed into the side of his neck. She began softly kissing him on the jaw she’d admired from day one, languorously pleased with the earthy freedom she felt, the indescribable feeling of knowing that your touch is not only welcome, it’s craved. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it was so special, so wonderful lying in the dark and feeling the warmth of him suffusing her skin. She loved him so much she thought she might actually die, and for the moment at least, it was enough.

He pulled her on top of him and was just beginning to kiss her deeply when her phone began to ring. "Don’t answer it," he murmured into her mouth.

"No worries, gorgeous—I couldn’t get up if my life depended on it," she moaned back impulsively, causing him to laugh and kiss her harder. They could barely hear Joeanne’s message, but there was no mistaking the sound of Jim’s voice coming through the answering machine.

"Hi Joeanne, it’s Jim. Trixie and Honey were involved in a car accident earlier..."

Dan and Joeanne froze in mid kiss, their hearts pounding from more than loving as they listened to the rest of the message, too stunned to remember to pick up the receiver, the second phone sitting only inches away on her nightstand.

"...they’re okay, thank God. Trix is here at home, she’s fast asleep, and Honey is still in the hospital with a concussion and bruised ribs. But listen Jo; I think there’s every possibility that our favorite dark haired loony had something to do with it. I don’t want to scare you, but you could be his next target. If your office won’t provide protection, I’ll hire somebody myself, or I’m sure Dan will want to help out. Just be real careful, okay? Bye."

Joeanne let out her breath in a rush as Dan sat up, his emotions going all over the place. He wanted to rush over to Ten Acres and see Trixie; he wanted to check up on Honey, he never wanted Joeanne to leave this room. He began to hyperventilate slightly, finally deciding to focus his immediate attention on Joeanne as Trixie and Honey were obviously asleep and out of danger. At least for now.

"I’ll take care of you," he began and stopped, realizing how ridiculously old fashioned that sounded. "I mean..."

"Dan, you’re in danger too!" she cried. She threw her arms around him and began shaking at the thought of him being taken way from her.

He stroked her hair. "I don’t think so, honey. I’ve been mostly behind the scenes, making phone inquiries and stuff." He thought about the visit he and Trixie had made to Mr. Lewis, but remembering how the man ducked back into the house and shut the door, he doubted he had anything to worry about on that score. "And anyway, I can take care of myself."

"So can Trixie and Honey," Joeanne reminded him. She felt her face grow warm, but couldn’t stop herself from adding, "I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you."

He brushed her cheekbone with a kiss so tender she thought her heart would explode. "Nothing’s going to happen to me. And anyway, you’re who’s important here. You and Trixie and Honey."

Joeanne knew better than to argue. "You really love them, don’t you?" she asked, wishing that she could include herself in that statement. Wanting and loving are not the same thing, she reminded herself.

 

I love you too he thought, but didn’t say it. If he scared her away now, he’d never forgive himself. "Yeah. They’ve got my back. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for them." Or you, he finished silently, wrapping his arms around her. He found himself wondering how Jim survived through the time that Trixie was missing years ago—just the thought of the mysterious, dark-haired man laying a finger on Joeanne was doing funny things to his lungs.

"That’s wonderful," she said, her voice deep with admiration and more.

"You’re wonderful," he said, and time disappeared again.

*     *     *

"I’ve never slept with anyone before," he found himself admitting as early morning light began to fill Joeanne’s slightly messy, but comfortable, bedroom.

Joeanne chuckled softly, nipping his chest. "Now I find that very hard to believe," she said meaningfully, sliding one warm thigh over his.

Dan grinned. "No, I meant sleep." He wasn’t sure how to explain how the thought of sharing sleep with somebody always seemed way more intimate to him than sex—that there wasn’t a more vulnerable time in anyone’s life than when they were asleep.

"Wow," she said softly. His admission surprised her--he was so obviously a caring person she found it difficult to believe. "Why not?" she asked. Why me? she really wanted to know.

"I’m not sure. I guess I just never met anyone I trusted enough." He wound his fingers through her hair. "That’s not really true. It’s more like I never let myself meet anyone I trusted enough. I’m not proud of this, but I’m starting to realize that I’ve only dated women I felt very casually about."

Joeanne’s heart missed a beat. "And you don’t feel casually about me?" she made herself ask.

"No. Casual is not the word that comes to mind," Dan forced himself to say. Before she could reply, he rushed on. "Look, I know you’re not entirely over that man who was in your office the other day. It’s okay," he lied. It was anything but okay. "I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything. I just want you to be happy," he said, and that much at least was true.

Joeanne finally remembered to breathe. "You think I’m still hung up on Richard?" she said slowly, incredulously. "Why do you think that?"

"You were so upset when he left your office the other day. I thought it was because you still had feelings for him."

"The only feeling I have for him at the moment is hate. I know that’s an ugly thing to say, but I can’t help it."

Dan felt a smile growing on his face as he let the realization that she wasn’t still in love with another man fill him. "You hate him?" he asked happily.

"He hit me." Joeanne didn’t know she was going to say that, hadn’t planned on ever revealing that to a soul.

Dan’s happy mood disappeared as if it had never been. "What?" he said softly, going very still.

"He was very possessive as the relationship wore on. I broke up with him, but he begged me for another chance, which stupid me gave him. Not long after that I found out I..." she stopped talking as the old misery filled her, choking off her words. She took a deep breath and continued. "I told him something he didn’t like hearing and he hit me; he pushed me and made me fall onto a coffee table. I haven’t been with him since." There was so much more to the story, but she couldn’t bear saying the words aloud. Blaming yourself changes nothing her own words gently reminded her, but she still found herself unable to go on.

The rage filled him until he couldn’t see. "I’ll kill him," he muttered, remembering the disdainful look Richard had given him as he exited Joeanne’s office. "That son of a bitch," he hissed between clenched teeth. He remembered Joeanne’s tee shirt. "He teaches at Harvard, right? He’s a dead man." His words were thick with anger—he hadn’t wanted to pound on somebody this bad since Kyle Dalton, who was only alive and in prison to this day because Trixie’s ex FBI boss had gotten to him first.

"Dan, please don’t do anything. Please don’t." Joeanne begged, frightened at the intensity in Dan’s dark eyes.

"Why not?" Dan growled. "I thought you hated him." I know I sure do.

Joeanne was ashamed as she realized the thought of Dan beating Richard to a pulp filled her with savage satisfaction. But the thought of Dan in jail for assault did not. "You’ll get in trouble; I couldn’t bear it. Please don’t do anything. Please," she begged. When his face remained stony she knew what she had to do to protect him.

"Oh God, please don’t do that," Dan exclaimed as she began crying, the sight of her tears threatening to tear his heart right out of his chest.

She pressed her wet face into his throat. "Say you won’t do it," she said, her voice muffled.

"Damn it," he said gruffly and her heart soared. You don’t know how lucky you are, Richard she thought to herself.

"If he makes his slimy way back to my office, and you happen to be around, I certainly wouldn’t object if you scared the crapola out of him though," she said primly. She thought of the darkly dangerous expression in Dan’s eyes, and his obvious physical fitness and almost laughed aloud at the thought of it. Richard wouldn’t know what hit him. She knew she was being immature and didn’t care in the slightest.

Dan’s happy mood suddenly returned and he chuckled a little at her pronouncement. "It would be my pleasure," he said, framing her face and kissing her gently.

"You’re a keeper," she said happily, smiling against his mouth.

"Even if I am an out of work bum?" he said teasingly, still feeling woozy over her choice of words.

"Shut up," she said fondly. "And anyway, you’re working with Trixie and Honey, so technically that isn’t even true." She sobered and looked at him. "You’ll figure out what you want to do."

"I know," Dan replied. "Actually, I think I have figured it out. It came to me in the middle of the night."

"Uh oh—I once thought I wanted to be an actress in the middle of the night!"

Dan grinned. "This is better. I know somebody my age going back to school is kind of ridiculous, but I want to get my Masters in Child Psychology. I actually minored in it, so that’s got to help me get into a program. Remember how I told you they don’t have any programs in Juvenile Hall to help kids figure out where they’ve gone wrong? Well..."

"Dan, that’s fabulous! I think that’s an incredible idea. And you couldn’t be more wrong about ‘somebody your age’—there were plenty of people your age in my classes at school. Plenty." Joeanne’s voice was enthusiastic.

Dan was surprised. "Really?"

Joeanne nodded emphatically. "Sure. It’s pretty common for people in their late twenties to want something different in their life. Heck, this one woman at school was in her forties. She was divorced, her kids all grown up, and she realized it’s always been her dream to be a lawyer. So she’s going for it. Part time, but she’s going for it."

"Wow. How old will she be when she finally makes it?"

Joeanne shrugged. "Who cares? The time’s going to go by whether she goes to school or not."

Dan’s heart gave a happy thump at the thought. "Now I just have to figure out how to pay for it," he mused.

"You’ll find a way. And there’s always student loans."

Dan shook his head. "I don’t want to be trapped into a monthly payment that goes on for 10 years. The kind of work I plan on doing isn’t going to pay much."

"Maybe not financially, but it’s sure going to pay a lot emotionally," she quietly pointed out.

So will being with you. "It’s really what I’ve wanted to do since I was 15," he said. If somebody had told him before he came to Sleepyside that he’d be ever be this happy, he would have laughed in their face. The boy he was then never thought for a moment that he could ever make a positive change in somebody’s life.

He buried his face in Joeanne’s hair. "Let’s go visit Honey and Trixie."

Joeanne started laughing. "It’s barely six o’clock in the morning," she pointed out.

"Hmmm. Guess we’ll have to kill some time first." He pressed his mouth into the satiny skin below her ear, feeling her shiver in response, and didn’t need to add anything else as they communicated in a way that transcended mere words.

To be continued...

One last author’s note: Thank you, Meagan & Janette for "no worries". I just love that expression!

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