Chapter 14

© Copyright 2003 by Elizabeth Delayne



Hands in his pockets, Derek sauntered down the wharf keeping an eye out for the several sidewalk surfers he'd already sent off. People milled around, outside of stores dressed in short sleeved shirts and shorts—a middle California Christmas atmosphere.

He thanked God he was out of the city. It was crowded, but it was not crazy. Noise surrounded the groups of people, but no one was screaming.

Shopping rage—for too long it had been part of his Christmas.

A pelican swooped down and landed smoothly on the a stack of planks. He stumbled back in his aristocratic way and stopped for a minute as if rethinking his route. “Don’t worry—you’re in Basin Springs, old pal,” Derek thought and turned to look down the row of old buildings.

The shops running along the Wharf were refashioned during the Christmas Season. The walks of the shops were lined with a cotton-like substance and the windows sprayed with white to simulate snow that rarely ever came to Basin Springs. Both contrasted with the wise old pelican that seemed to stand back and watch with disgust.

From what Derek had learned, this was a tradition that went back thirty years. Every Thanksgiving morning a crowd gathered as a conglomeration of the high schools’ jazz bands played renditions of Christmas songs to officially open the holiday season. The old shops were open all day and people without families were encouraged to eat the traditional Thanksgiving meal with the city.

Despite the leisurely pace, Derek knew where he was headed. Amy was monitoring the sand sculpture competition—always a sport at any Basin Springs festival. She wasn’t wondering through crowds, the area was sectioned off, and all of the competitors were local folks that knew Amy.

He'd pulled her out of the ocean at another crowded event. The moment flashed, seeing her disappear into the ocean waves. He frowned over it—then pushed back the feelings before they could surge over him. If he was going to seek her out the last thing he needed to feel was fear.

When he passed her earlier that morning, she'd been busy sectioning off the competition area with the large bright orange blockades. She hadn't offered a greeting, but then neither had he. They hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to each other over the last few weeks.

He spotted her kneeling near a large boat-shaped sand sculpture as one of the competitors, a young guy, took a handful of sand out of the bucket she held in her hands. She was wearing shorts and the red event shirt, her legs and arms stilled tanned, but not as dark. She'd been spending more time in doors, he thought, following orders other people set over her.

He missed the Amy that had taken on the ocean with a surf board under her feet. He missed the verbal sparing, life that radiated in confusing waves from her spirit. There was a vibrancy missing and a weariness, a sadness that had set in.

"I see you've found a way to stay busy."

She jumped, and that made him frown.

"Everything's clear," she told him without looking at him and set the bucket of sand down, brushing her hands off on her shorts as she stood.

"I didn't mean that as a complaint."

"No?" she shrugged it off and walked passed him.

Derek let out a breath and followed as she walked to the edge of the water where the wet sand was marred with evidence of the competition behind them. She crossed her arms across her chest and started out at the ocean.

”You’ve had a hard couple of weeks,” he said at last. “You don’t like to be tied down. Maybe I haven’t given you the credit you deserve for taking the safety factor in consideration.”

"I'm so weary of this," she pressed her fingers to her eyes. "I can’t go anywhere without someone wanting to go with me, question me, protect me. It’s too close to what it was like when I was first put on probation. Do you know what it’s like for everyone to want to know your every move?”

”No,” but he could see the haunting emotion whirling in her eyes as she dropped her hands to her sides.

”I can’t get away from it. There’s nothing I can do about it but play by their rules, your rules, my father’s rules—and he’s off somewhere with Vince in Vail. Even the Lyons have guidelines for me, legal ones ...” she closed her eyes. “I don't want you to be angry with me anymore. I don’t want to be angry with you anymore."

"Amy," he reached out and slowly turned her to face him. The trouble in her eyes contrasted with the freedom of the ocean beside them, with the soft breeze that lifted her hair. It had been too long since he had been able to simply stand like this and look at her. "I'm not angry with you anymore."

”You have a good way of showing it. As do I, I imagine.”

”It’s never been about anger anyway. I want you to trust me.”

"I do trust you," she muttered, not seeming at all happy about it, and turned back to study the waves.

In the silence, Derek watched her. He was almost sure he'd never met a more complicated person.

But God didn't make people uncomplicated. She was meeting the changes in her life head on. Her probation would be up in the next few months. Remembering this, he made a mental note to check on Carl—sure Ham would have done the same thing.

"I guess I need to get on down the beach."

Amy glanced over at him and for a moment her gaze caught his and held.

What do you want from me? he wanted to ask her. What are you looking for?

Her eyes held so much, deep fathoms of emotions. He wanted to reach out, brush away the strand of hair that the wind had lifted against her cheek. He wanted to watch her turn her cheek into his palm, wanted trust ...

And who was he kidding? He looked at her and there was part of him that feared he would never be able to look away. If he let himself, he would ask a great deal more of her.

She was simply beautiful, highlighted by the sun and the spirit of the California coast. She radiated life—and he hated, absolutely hated that he had pulled part of that from her eyes in the last few weeks. Hated that he was forced to by some unseen bully.

Murderer.

"If things get crazy here, I don't mind coming back, dropping by."

"I know.”

”Okay.” That was all he could ask of her.

"Derek—" she said, without looking at him. "I told Anna I would meet her at the city feast. She's hoping to be able to get away from a case she's working by one thirty. You could join us if there’s nothing else ..."

He smiled and accepted the offer for what it was—a step in the right direction for them both.



Eric drove his sleek BMW through the exclusive neighborhood toward the Lyon's home. He had the top to his convertible down on Thanksgiving. He wasn't driving through snow or watching for black ice patches in the road. The wind was streaking through his hair; the sun was warm on his skin.

And the fact that it was snowing right now in Boston made him laugh.

He hoped that he could talk Andrea into taking a ride with him. They could slip on down the coast a bit to watch the sunset. Or drive to the wharf. He'd been hearing tales from the people down at the office that it was quite an experience. A nice romantic stroll at sunset would end the day quite nicely, might push Andrea one more step in the direction he wanted them to go.

He pulled up to the front of the Lyon's home and cut the engine. It was a large brick home, two stories—with a large attic on the third. For a minute he sat back and studied it. Despite the relationship he'd had with Andrea, and the plans he'd been making with her mom over the last few years, he had never been to their home—not to the one she’d grown up in, or this one that they’d moved into when Andrea was in college.

The front door opened as Eric climbed out of his car and John Lyons stepped out carrying a bag of trash. He was dressed casual, Eric was sure, though the pleated khaki pants and the blue oxford were daily work attire for most people in Basin Springs.

Eric reached across into the small back seat and picked up the flowers—red roses for Andrea and pristine white lilies for her mom. As he didn't cook, he thought it was a good trade off for what he hoped would be the first of many Thanksgivings he shared with Andrea in the Lyon's home.

Andrea's dad tossed the garbage in the bin and nodded toward the flowers. "Good choice. Rachel and Andrea both have a soft heart for flowers."

They'd sat side by side in court together, finding a rhythm that Eric thought worked perfectly. They had visited homes, gone to crime scenes, and stopped for brief lunches during cases.

But today, he wasn't John Lyons, attorney at law. He was Andrea's dad.

"Glad you could make it. Rachel's been on the phone with our son half the morning. He's nervous—baby should be coming by Christmas." They walked up the stone path. "We'll be going out of town to see them for Christmas. New baby and all. You have a brother don’t you?”

”Younger ... it’s going to be a long time before he settles down.”

”We thought the same thing for Brad, but he’s surprised us well enough. Picked up a good girl. Wanted a family. Rachel’s dying to get out there and see them, but it’s time for the girl to be with her mom. They’re good in-laws and have told us to come on out, but that’s how Rachel sees it. So we’re waiting until ... well, just until.”

He stopped Eric with a held out hand as they reached the door. "All this that's been going on with Amy, it worries me. You'll look out for them both while we're out of town."

Eric met John's eyes and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I worry about them. Andrea's my daughter. I don't want ... and I have a special interest in Amy. I want to see that probation lifted. The court date's coming up soon. I want to make sure she reaches it and gets through it. There are people in this town that still remember—and have no business bringing it up—but there are people that would like to see her not make it."

Eric nodded again.

"If people find out we're out of town, they might make a move. It happened once, a few years ago. Some people pressed charges on her when I took my family to Europe. When I got back I had a mountain of red tape to deal with and the lawyer Lance hired in my absence to straighten out. If something happens her file and detailed notes are in my desk drawer at the office. Bottom left. Under family."



"I didn't think you were going to make it," Anna said as she shifted her plate out of the way so Derek would have a place to sit across from her. The tables and chairs that had been set up at the end of the wharf were packed with city workers.

Derek ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Ran into the chief. He wanted to talk shop."

Anna rolled her eyes. "And on a holiday, no less."

"Has Amy already gone?"

"She just ran up to get us some more to drink." Anna glanced down at her wrist and turned the bracelet she wore around. "She was a little disappointed because she thought you weren't coming, but if you tell her I told you..."

"Disappointed?" Derek nearly laughed.

Anna looked back at him, her gaze dark. "Don't let her fool you. There's more going on inside of her then anger."

"I think I've figured that part out."

"She asked you, Derek. That's a big step for her. I missed that cue several times in the last few years and in doing so, I only scared her off. Do you know how many times she's asked her father for something since her mom died?"

”If I were to take a guess it would be not much.”

Anna sighed. "Whatever the number, it's almost never now. She asks, he disappoints, her heart grows a little bit harder toward him ...."

"And everyone else."

"There is a part of her heart that retracts. He pulled another one of his moves on her today. It broke her heart.”

Derek thought about the look of sadness he’d seen in her eyes. It hadn’t been because of him, but because she was disappointed. How many cues had he missed over the last few months?

"It's my fault, really. I talked her into inviting her father over for a traditional dinner tonight. So she called, and left a message, and I think she really believed ... Lance had made noises about it and I thought—" she sighed. "I should have realized he was only rolling off what he felt when he saw her in the hospital, but I ... I really wanted to believe he had changed."

"He backed out?"

"He never even called to confirm, he just waited until this morning to have Vince call and say they were taking off for Vail. He never intended to come in the first place."



After dinner, it didn't take long to figure out that Andrea would stay close to home after the feast. It wasn't something she told him, or something her mother warned him about, but it was something he sensed in the way she settled in. She was a little worried about her blood sugar.

He didn't mind so much. He just simply adjusted the plans he had made in his head.

And it pleased him that she suggested a walk.

Hand-in-hand they strolled down the quiet street. She pointed out a few houses that belonged to the local elite. Her parents had moved into the quiet neighborhood once her brother had moved out of the house, and they'd sold the large family home, with the swing set and fort, to young family that had kids that would grow into the house.

"I heard dad telling mom that he talked to you about Amy's case."

Eric nodded, reluctant to dive into the client confidentiality, even if it was what John Lyons had considered a family issue.

"You don't have to tell me, I just wanted you to know it eases my mind."

"I think it's good that Amy's part of the family.

"Mmm." Andrea pulled his arm around her and leaned against his side as they leisurely strolled on. "If she would accept it, fully, it would be better. Maybe she has. She doesn't deal with family very well."

"How long has her mom been gone?"

"Almost ten years now." Andrea shook her head. "How time really flies."

"Did you know her?"

"I knew of her. Mom and dad didn't have the practice then that they have today and their circles were a little less limited, but to be fair to the Carpenters, they really didn't circulate in the high society areas either—they were just the best at what they did and people liked to talk about them."

"Really?"

"Well, her dad was a professional baseball player. We used to have big celebrations in this town when the season started, when they would go to the playoffs ... just about anytime, really. I remember those times, going to the restaurants, my brother wearing a jersey with his name on it. And her mom ... man, she was a princess, beautiful, talented, nice. She was always in the paper. Her brother, Ryan ... he was the star of the baseball team. People were always watching him, comparing him to his father. And everyone thought he was better—that he would go farther—and what a feet that would have been. I don't know any girl in the high school who didn't have a crush on him. He was a good guy. Talented. Gorgeous. I was a freshman in high school when they were killed. It shocked us all."

"I still remember my mom and dad talking about it at the breakfast table. Jenny and Brad and I came down, ready for school. Mom wanted to talk to me. She wanted me to know before I went to school. I won't forget that—feeling numb, people didn't really talk that day—or maybe they did. Maybe it just feels like a sea of faces."

"Amy was in the junior Olympics. People were watching her. She should have been—she should have gone. Her dad should have made sure she never missed a lesson. People in this town should have gotten her to those meets. It wasn't just her father that let her down."

"She used to visit Jenny's grave—after Jenny died. I saw her sitting there, at the foot of the grave one day when I went there after school. She doesn't know I know, but I saw her there that day and several days after that—walking the small paths in the cemetery. Jenny's grave is not far from her mom's and brother's. She spent so much time in the cemetery. It broke my heart."

"So you befriended her."

"When I worked up the courage to do so. It didn't seem right to approach her there ... I didn't think she would accept it. Then one day I was sitting, eating my lunch my mom packed for me ... and she was sitting there at a table in the far back of the cafeteria. She was alone. I heard some girls talking about her—and I ... I used my brother's lunch pass to get a meal. I didn't want her to feel like I was so different ... and I sat down across from her. It took days to get her to talk to me. Weeks to get her to really look at me."

"She's come a long way."

"Yeah. And she's almost home free. Those people that were talking about her in the cafeteria that day, people like them, would rather be right about her then admit they had said and done the wrong things back them. They would love for her to fail."



The sun was setting when Derek made it back to the sand sculpture competition. The judges were finishing their marks. A few handfuls of people were standing around the edges of the area waiting for the winner to be announced. Not a big deal, but a sport and a tradition, none the less.

Amy was standing to the side, near one of the orange barricades. Too close to the edge, was all he could think as he scanned the area around her.

Then he realized she was alert and on guard herself.

By the time he reached her side, his heart had settled.

"Are you scheduled for take down?"

Amy glanced at him, then shook her head. "I could stay around. I'm sure the volunteers would appreciate by help, but I'm officially off duty."

"Then how about joining me out on the water? I need to take on of the boats out, check on some yachts that we've received some reports on."

"I suppose."

"We could ride off into the sunset, be a little bit like Ham and Joe. Chase a couple of waves across the Pacific ocean."

He couldn’t have called it a smile for most people, but one side of her lips did lift. "I suppose we could do that to. How long do I have to pack?"

"About 5 minutes."

"Even I need longer than that to pack. Can I borrow your phone?"

"Calling in reinforcements?"

"A chaperone," she said and laughed when his eyes lifted. She took the phone he handed her. "I just want to call Anna. Let her know I'll be home late."

”So you’re saying yes.”

”I miss the water.” Amy told him as she dialed the number.

"Invite Anna to come. She may want to relax after today."

Derek noted she didn't ask. He smiled a little as he listened to her talking to Anna. They were at ease with each other. He still remembered how tense Amy had been that day in his office when Anna had talked to her about Maureen's death.

Murder, he thought again.

Anna had not been at ease either.

"I was just kidding about the chaperone," Amy said as she handed the phone back to him. "And I was serious this morning. I do trust you."

"Amy," he said and stopped her. He didn't know what to say to her, he didn't know how to reach her, but he had been praying all day for her, for the right words. "Maybe I should have really taken the time to say I’m sorry before today. I overreacted. You've only known me, what, six months? We've met in a town that has been your life. Your whole life."

"Six months," she repeated, her brow crinkling in the center as she thought about it. "It feels like so much longer."

"I know."

Standing on the beach, with the sun slowly setting behind her, she put a hand to his chest. Her eyes looked up at his, searching, wishing—he thought. He wished that he knew for sure. "It could be so much more between us. I'm afraid of that. Not of you, just of what I may or may not have to deal with if there is a future. I'm not ready for that. I'm not ready to deal with that."

"I don't want to push you."

"You do, sometimes, when you look at me," she turned, closing her eyes and focusing on a long, deep breath. When she started walking again, her brow was furrowed. "It's not your fault, really. Maybe I just see it and want it—and I wonder if you can really see me. If what you see is what I really am. I wonder if you get close enough ... if it will be the same. Then I see you looking at me and it's like ... I don’t know, like I just want to walk forward with you. I'm scared to death."

"You've had a busy year," he commented. He slipped his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her. "You have a right to put the sails down and wait out the storm. Amy, I'm not looking to rush you. If there's a course in our future, then we'll get to it when time is right. We're not out on the seas alone. The storms aren't pushing us in random directions. God's in control."

He reached out with both hands and stopped her, turning her to face him with both hands on her arms. "I don't want to rush you, I don't want to scare you, but I want you to know that you can come to me, you can turn to me, and my arms are going to be right here. I’m not moving from you."

She closed her eyes as if the words stabbed into her heart. Slowly she shook her head. "Derek—I ... this is so much."

"Just a step. A small one. Just take one step with me. It's not about trust, Amy. It's about remembering. Remember that the night on the deck, when were both dealing with our own storms, our own worries, remember, it wasn't about what we wanted from each other. It was about what we found in each other."

Her eyes were on his now, so open and blue. He could see her weakening. He could tell that if he pushed her, just the least bit more, she would cave in ... at least for a while. The prospect of the temporary didn't satisfy him.

"Derek—"

He took a step back, reigned himself in. "That step doesn't have to be taken today. Take a ride with me onto the ocean. Share the sunset with me as a friend. We'll leave this whole discussion right here in the sand."

She stared into his eyes as the tension seemed to slowly fade from her body.

"But you'll let me drive the boat."

He smiled—and knew he would without a doubt allow her that freedom. He was ready to see that look in her eyes again.

"We'll see."



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