Fugitive Mom. Lynn Erickson
I can tell the suits over at Metropole they can keep this out of court?”
“Oh, I’m sure. In fact, we’ll probably have enough to press charges on old Sammy.”
“Well, then, I assume I can have copies of the lab reports when they’re done?”
“No problem. I’ll sign the requisition.”
They made their way back out into the sun, and Luke took off his hard hat and handed it to Rollins, dusting off the sleeves of his jacket. “Thanks for your time, Chief,” he said, turning to go.
Then Rollins spoke. “You don’t remember me, do you?” he said.
Luke pivoted. “I, ah, no, not really.”
“It was ten, twelve, years ago.”
Luke shrugged.
“A waterfront fire down on Third Street.”
“Sorry, but I…” Then it came back to him. Sure. Rollins. He’d been a fireman then, and some real junked-out dudes had been playing chemist at home and blown up their rat hole of an apartment. Luke and his partner had been on a Vice surveillance two buildings down. They’d raced to the scene only seconds after the explosion, and Luke had helped Rollins drag an entire family of illegal immigrants from the blazing second story to safety.
Sure, now he remembered. Back then, Luke had been a hero.
“The fire,” Luke said, nodding. “We both got some good press that night.”
“Yeah,” Rollins said. “Well, anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about your…job. Your resignation and all that.”
“Mmm,” Luke said.
“I saw your name in the papers last year, and well, I felt real bad for you and all the others who, ah, resigned. I just wanted to tell you that.”
“I appreciate it,” Luke said, and he lifted his hand, gave Rollins a short wave, turned and headed to his car.
No one, he thought, was sorrier than he.
CHAPTER FOUR
GRACE PACED in front of the main entrance to the Avenues Mall in Oakland and gripped Charley’s hand. She’d wanted to meet her parents at their house, somewhere familiar and comfortable, for Charley, but, as Bob had told her, it was a bad idea. The feds would be nosing around once she was declared a fugitive, and one of the first things they’d do would be to stake out their house. An ex-cop’s home, she thought, cringing, knowing what this action of hers was doing to her father, her law-abiding father.
Charley was being an angel, looking forward to seeing Gramma and Grampa, but he was bound to wear down soon. So much traveling. A new bed every night, new faces, hours and hours stuck in the hot car. It wasn’t fair.
She tugged gently on Charley’s hand and moved to the curb, where the valets were parking cars. She looked up and down the crowded parking aisles. Where the heck were her parents? Her nerves scratched beneath her skin. It had been Bob’s idea to meet at the Oakland mall. One o’clock, he’d said, at the main entrance where the valet stand was located.
She looked at her watch. It was almost 1:05.
Calm down, she told herself.
“Mommy?” Charley kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk. “Where are Gramma and Grampa? I’m hungry.”
“I’m sure they’re just parking their car, honey. They’ll be along.”
“Can we have pizza?”
“I think you’ve had enough junk food to last a lifetime, young man.”
“Pizza is not junk food, Mommy. Ice cream is junk food. You said so last night.”
“Well, yes, I did. And it’s true.”
“Where are Gramma and—” But before he could finish, Bob Bennett had swooped him up from behind and was giving him a big kiss on the cheek. “Grampa!” Charley squealed in delight, and Grace felt tears press against her eyelids.
Big Bob Bennett was a bear of a man, barrel-chested, tall, grizzled hair poking out of the open collar of his shirt. His face was heavy featured and sagging, but it was a good face, strong and kind.
Her mother, Sally, was petite and adorable. A mismatched couple, one would say to look at them, but they’d been married for forty years and were still going great guns.
Sally hugged Grace tightly, then took Charley from Bob. “Look at this boy, how big you’ve grown since last Christmas. Oh, stop squirming and let Gramma have all the hugs and kisses she can get.”
“God, I’m so glad to see you both,” Grace breathed. “I’ve got so much to tell you and—”
“I’m hungry,” Charley announced to his grandparents, the only grandparents he’d known. “Mommy says pizza is bad for me, but I bet Gramma wants pizza. Are you hungry, Gramma?”
“The boy sure is learning,” Bob said, grinning, giving Grace a big hug.
“Oh, pizza, yum yum,” Sally said, taking Charley’s hand, “that’s exactly what Gramma wanted, too. How did you know? Did a little elf tell you?”
Charley shook his head and laughed and held on to Sally’s hand, half dragging her into the mall.
Grace and Bob followed a few paces behind, Grace tucking her arm into Bob’s, laying her head on his shoulder as they walked. “Oh, Dad,” she said, “what have I done?”
“The only thing you could have.”
“But you were a policeman. How can you say that? It’s wrong. It’s just that I…”
“You believed you had no other choice. Do you think you’re the first person who’s been faced with this kind of decision?”
“No, but…”
“Sure you’re having doubts. You’re a good moral young woman.”
“Not so young anymore.”
“Thirty-three is not old.”
“Dad, I’m thirty-five now.”
“You are?”
“Oh, stop teasing. It isn’t funny.”
“I’m sorry. But I had to see if you could muster up a smile. You know, you’re still our baby.”
She sighed and squeezed his arm and watched Charley tugging on Sally’s hand as they all passed a shoe store and a B. Daltons, his four-year-old nose leading them straight to the food court.
Everything seemed surreal to Grace when they found a table and Sally went to get pizzas and Cokes. The last time Grace and Charley had been here was over the long December break from her classes at CU. The mall had been so crowded, Christmas shoppers everywhere, and Charley had been delighted at the carolers and beautiful displays of decorated trees and huge candy canes and reindeer and elves and snowmen. He’d ridden on the big Wonderland train set up in the middle of the mall, and he’d sat on Santa’s lap and been so brave. Bob had taken a whole roll of film, and Sally had sent Grace and Charley copies in January. They’d been so happy.
Grace ate her pizza and looked at Charley and her parents and recalled that Bob and Sally had not always been so pleased about her foray into foster motherhood. Of course they had wanted her to marry and have children of her own. Five years ago, before Charley had even been born, she had dated an associate professor at CU, and Sally had pressed and pressed over the phone.
“Are you two serious? Do you think it’s in the realm of possibility that you might marry? He’s such a nice man, Grace, an old-fashioned gentleman.”
Yes, Grace had thought, he had been very nice. Shy and reserved and terribly proper.