“She had no idea that I used to drink my liver into a fine dust at the office, because of the crap I witnessed first-hand. You’re never the same after some of the things I’ve seen. The murders. The mutilations. The criminals go through the system like a revolving door just to kill and kill again, after you spent years chasing them to finally catch them and put their narcissistic, demonic asses behind bars! They get out anyway, and as soon as they do, they murder innocent people. Sell drugs. Rape. Torture. I was damn good at my job though, Kim, damn good, but I’m scarred for life.
“Yeah, I tried the less colorful route first. I went to college. Got a Bachelor’s in Criminal Justice with plans to go to law school, just like your mother, but then decided to go into law enforcement a few years later instead. Got a Masters in Sociology, went on the beat, then worked as a detective for a few years. That led me to the FBI. I say all of that to say that I have absolutely no interest in trying to take my ex-wife down. She’s a good woman.”
Kim lowered her gaze, fighting back tears.
“Look, sweetheart.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “I don’t know if she did it or not. You didn’t say, and I don’t want you to say… either way. The news outlets I’ve seen have not had her confessing to anything, either, but what I do know is that it seems to me that you turned out just fine. Regardless of the unfortunate circumstances. When you wrote to me, I took a minute to look you up. I’d say Matt and Angelique did a damn good job. You’re beautiful. You speak in such an elegant way. You’re polite. A talented dancer and actress who was on Broadway. That’s incredible.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there something I can do to help you?”
“You’ve helped me a lot already. I just needed someone to confirm that I’m not crazy… that she really is a good person. I can’t ask my father—he’s dead—and besides, my biological mother said he was the main orchestrator. That’s how all of this got started. Then, on top of that, this is just a—”
“Stop right there,” he put his finger to his lip, “I get it.”
She nodded in understanding.
“When you’re ready, please talk to her. I know she’s worried sick about you.”
“How do you know?” she questioned. Her heart quickened. Was he going to confirm he knew all along?
He winked at her. “I just know how she is, and for the record, she and I spoke a few times over the years. She was so, so proud of you. She rambled on about you forever. Telling me how wonderful her daughter was… how you made her life complete.”
Kim’s face grew hot about the cheeks as she smiled.
“Well, we better get in there for dinner. The food will only keep for so long.”
“Yes, it smells so good.” Kim gathered her purse and stood. And then it struck her. “Oh, Mr. Cottage?”
“Yes?” He slipped his hand in his pocket as he regarded her.
“I know that I just met you, and this is… this is probably inappropriate, but my boyfriend is having a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
He crossed his arms.
“He’s a Park Ranger, a really good one at that, and… well… a few years ago, his son was murdered.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, it’s an unsolved case and Jack is convinced there’s a cover-up. The police aren’t doing much to help, and I figured—”
“With my connections, maybe I can talk to some people and look into this?” He smiled earnestly at her.
“Yes. I’m sorry. Have I overstepped? I just love him so much. What happened was horrible and no one should die the way Chad did. Jack is hurting badly over this. He’s gone against the entire town, and tensions are high.”
“I tell you what. Let’s talk about it after dinner privately in my home office. Give me all the information you have, and I will let you know what I think, and if I can do anything to help, okay?”
“Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Cottage. I really appreciate it!”
“Call me Walt. Now come on, let’s eat. I’m allowed to cheat for dessert. My wife made the apple cobbler herself. All from scratch…”
Chapter Eighteen
Jill Scott’s, ‘He Loves Me’ serenaded them from the old CD player in Kim’s apartment. Jack watched her dance—reluctantly at first. She wanted to keep the choreography top secret until the night of the recital, but he wore her down, requesting she show him just a little sample of what she was teaching the children. She’d been rather tight-lipped about the details the whole way through, but his curiosity pushed him to ask. Besides, this was important to her, so he wanted to know more about it.