She rolled her eyes, not like Feb, not with humor at the foibles of the world, but with disgust, before she shook her head twice and said, “Right.”
“Cheryl –”
She turned bodily to him and wrapped her arms around her chest, grabbing her biceps, protective again but her voice was fuelled with acid. “I know what he did. Denny,” she spat out the name, “killed folks. You think I’m gonna find another man? You’re f**kin’ crazy.”
“I know it won’t seem like it now but you’ll find a time when you change your mind.”
“Bullshit,” she hissed, voice quiet but both furious and terrified, leaning toward him. “He’s been around my kid! I been f**kin’ a murderer!”
Colt leaned forward too and said, just as quiet but with no fury or terror, just force, “No, you thought you were f**kin’ me.”
“Makes it better?” she asked, brows going up, disbelief filling her face. She thought he was nuts.
“Yeah. It does.”
“You that good?” Now she was sarcastic.
“No complaints, Cheryl,” he told her honestly, “the thing is, I work hard to be a good cop, a good friend and that’s what he was playin’ at. That’s what he showed you. That’s what he wanted you to believe. You believed it, lick your wounds but let ‘em heal and move on. When you do, you come to me and I’m tellin’ you now, I’ll do what I can to make sure you move on to the right guy.”
“So, this a new service cops provide to gals like me?”
“No, this is somethin’ I’d do for you because we both been f**ked over by a sick f**k who threw you into hell and has been makin’ me and my woman live in one for twenty-two years. Anyone finds out I offered it, much less did it, I’d be f**ked. But still, I’m offerin’ it to you. Throw away the card, I don’t give a f**k. But it was me, someone f**ked me over and another person showed me a kindness, I’d take it. I’m guessin’ you don’t get much kindness thrown at you. Ryan, me, not much else, am I right?”
She looked away. He was right.
“Learn one thing from this, Cheryl,” Colt advised. “Learn to see a kindness, a real one, when it’s handed to you and learn to take it.”
She closed her eyes and twisted her neck, her face exposing pain before she opened her eyes and stared out the window again.
She wasn’t giving him anything more.
Colt took a sip from his to go cup and called to Mimi, “Meems, wrap up a couple more of those brownies and a few cookies. Cheryl here has a kid.”
“You betcha, Colt,” Mimi called back.
Colt turned to Cheryl and started to stand, saying, “I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”
He was on his feet before he heard her ask, “Twenty-two years?”
He looked down at her to see she was still staring out the window. “Yeah.”
She shook her head and the tears hit her eyes. The wall of hardness she’d built was flimsy, likely how Denny got in.
“You really All-State? Play at Purdue?” she asked, her eyes never leaving the window.
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you go pro?”
“Good enough for Purdue, not near good enough for pro.”
“You want that?”
“Nope. I wanted to be a cop.”
She tipped her head back to look at him and he noticed for the first time she was very pretty. Not because she looked like Feb. All on her own.
A tear slid down her cheek and she said, “I wanted to be a dancer. Looks like we both got what we wanted, hunh?”
The words had the edge of bitterness which coated an underlying sadness.
“Card works a second way, Cheryl,” Colt said softly. “It works for kids who wanna learn to play football.”
She closed her eyes and new tears slid down her face.
“Got a friend named Morrie who’s got a boy, Palmer,” Colt went on. “We toss a ball around a lot. Ethan would be welcome.”
She nodded but looked away without a word.
“Feb would want to meet you,” he pushed it, speaking quietly.
“Why?” she asked the window.
“Because she’s a woman who’s led a lonely life forced on her by a number of shitty guys and she’s found her way through. She’d know what you’re feelin’ and she’d listen, or not, you don’t feel like talkin’. She owns a bar, least she could do is make you a drink.”
Cheryl put her hand to her ponytail, tugged it and said softly, “Right about now, I could use a drink.”
“J&J’s, two doors down, you can’t miss it and you’re welcome.”
She said no more, Mimi came up with a filled white bag and said to Colt, “I’ll put it on your tab.”
“Catch you on that tomorrow,” Colt told her as she set the bag beside Cheryl’s untouched brownie and quickly took off.
“Later, Cheryl,” Colt said and turned to the door.
“Lieutenant Colton?” she called, he stopped and looked at her.
“Friends call me Colt.”
She swallowed before she nodded and went on. “Colt,” then she whispered, “thanks for not bein’ an ass**le.”
He smiled at her. It wasn’t the best compliment he’d ever had but, from Cheryl, it was likely one of the better ones she had to give.
Then he left.
* * * * *
At ten past six, Colt entered J&J’s, looked to the bar, saw Feb and didn’t get the jaw tilt.
She turned, walked down to his end and he met her there.
“Reece okay?”
Colt slid onto his stool. “Checked in, safe and sound and now on the alert for a hatchet murderer. Thinkin’ about takin’ a vacation.”
She closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank God.”
Colt fought back the jealousy her obvious emotion for this Reece guy caused. She didn’t need that now. They’d talk about the fact that she’d need to phone Reece and let him know that contact would be minimal and friendly from here on in but they’d talk about it later. And he’d share then that that contact would be very minimal and more cordial than friendly.
She opened her eyes and asked, “Off duty?”
“Yeah, baby. Beer.”
She twisted, got him a beer and set it in front of him.
“So, you wanna guess what a patty melt got you?” she asked.
She was still wearing the relief on her face, shoving the last drama aside and letting the next snatch of the good life in before the shit hit again. She reached under the bar and pulled up two white, square Styrofoam containers.