Speak No Evil

day. You got a girl pregnant, you married her. Everything worked out, more or less.

“But maybe, sometimes, marriage isn’t always the right thing.”

The colonel paused again. “A lot of women are capable of raising kids on their own. Especially with family,” he said, more to himself than to Nick.

“Nelia and Andrew, they never argued. They never disagreed. They were always respectful, always polite. I should have seen it sooner.”

When the colonel didn’t say anything, Nick asked, “Seen what?”

“That they didn’t love each other.”

“But that certainly didn’t have anything to do with Justin’s murder.”

“No, it didn’t. But it’s never just one thing, is it? Wrong place, wrong time…or maybe a gradual layering of choices? First, having sex. Then getting married. Moving here, or there. Taking this job, or that one. Every decision, every choice, changes the path we’re on.

“Nelia and Andrew didn’t love each other, but they are both good people and they loved Justin. They did the wrong thing for the right reasons. If they had really loved each other, they wouldn’t have spent so much time apart.”

“But that has nothing to do with Justin’s murder.” Nick didn’t see where the colonel was going with the conversation. Maybe he was too tired, or in too much pain. But there seemed to be a disconnect that Nick just wasn’t getting.

“Have you ever been in love, Sheriff?” the colonel asked.

Nick’s jaw clenched. “Yes.”

“Did you want to spend your free time with her? Did you think about her when you were apart? I mean, not all the time. There’re other things, like the job, the World Series, but work and sports aside, didn’t you just want to be with her?”

Nick thought about Miranda. He would have given his life for her. He’d wanted to marry her. He’d loved her. She hadn’t loved him. He’d known it from the beginning, thought he could change her, convince her that he was the right man for her. That he could protect her, take care of her, keep her demons at bay.

But he couldn’t do anything she didn’t want him to do, and it took another man to fix Miranda’s wounded soul. He’d finally accepted that, moved on.

The colonel continued. “Andrew and Nelia, separate, are incredible people. Wonderful. I admire both of them. Separately, they made great parents. They loved Justin. They would have done anything for him.” He paused, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Together? They respected each other. And as the farce of a marriage continued, they spent more time apart.”

Nick could picture the relationship perfectly. Two people who stayed together, without anger or love, because of a child.

“So when Justin died, they had nothing left,” Nick said quietly.

“Not even each other,” the colonel said equally quietly.

He sat down on the stair next to Nick.

“Carina said his murderer was never found.”

“True. Nelia left, she couldn’t stay here with the memories. I haven’t seen her in years. Rosa, she talks to her once a week. Every Sunday. But no one else. Nelia is grieving alone, and to me, that’s the saddest thing. It’s been eleven years.”

They sat a long moment in silence.

“I heard about the third murder,” the colonel said. “That the girl was kidnapped from her apartment.”

“Yes.”

“How did Cara handle it?”

“Like a professional.”

Nick remembered the pain in her eyes, pain and anger, and a hint of doubt. But she still did the job, not letting her personal feelings interfere with her duty.

Nick knew how difficult it could be to push down personal feelings to do what was right. He’d had to do it repeatedly on the Butcher investigation. When he was involved with Miranda, he had to keep reminding himself that she didn’t want his protection, or his help. He had never wanted to bring FBI agent Quinn Peterson back to town, knowing that he still loved Miranda, but Nick had had to, to find the Butcher.

In a perfect world, there’d be no sick men torturing and hunting down women in the wilderness, or gluing their mouths shut and raping them while they suffocated. And in a perfect world, feelings wouldn’t hurt. Failure wouldn’t be a word. Mistakes wouldn’t happen.

“That’s my girl,” the colonel said with pride. “Professional, focused, determined. I just-I can’t help but worry. She took Justin’s death personally.”

“I know.”

Carina’s dad looked at him, surprised. “She told you?”

“That she was babysitting? That she was never allowed to watch Lucy again? Yeah. She told me.” Nick was surprised that it bothered him, that he felt closer to Carina because of the quiet, unconscious distrust of her family, even though her family loved her.

Neither man spoke for a long while. “It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t even think about it for the longest time. It wasn’t, well, it wasn’t until Carina said something last year that made me realize what Rosa and I had unintentionally done.”

“What did she say?”

“It was just before Lucy’s seventeenth birthday. She wanted to go to the mall to buy these shoes she had to have, but we don’t allow her to go alone or just to hang out with friends. Kids get in trouble that way. It was Rosa’s Ladies Guild night at the church, and I was getting over a cold. Carina offered to take her, and I said great.

“Carina turned to Lucy and said, ‘This will be fun. The first time us girls get a girls’ night out.’ ”

“After they left, Rosa and I talked and realized we’d never let Carina take Lucy anywhere, just the two of them. Both of us remembered many times where we’d volunteer to join them, or one of the boys would be in the house and would tag along. I think all of us went into protective mode.”

“It hurt Carina.”

“I see it now, but she’d never said anything. Not to me or her mother, at any rate.” He looked at Nick, cleared his throat. “I saw you get out of the car when Carina dropped you off.”

Nick tensed. Had the colonel been able to see him practically having sex with his daughter in his driveway? Nick was usually discreet about his relationships. Not that he and Carina had a relationship, especially now after he’d pushed her away.

“Dream of me tonight,” she’d said. And he definitely would.

“Bum knee?”

“You could say that.”

“Let me help you up the stairs.”

“I don’t need help.”

The colonel stood, extended his hand. “It’s not a sin to accept help once in a while.”

Damn. Nick would make it up the stairs alone. Struggling the entire way. Making the situation worse, which would mean paying for it in the morning.

“Thanks,” he managed to grunt out, taking the old man’s hand.

Wrapping an arm around the colonel’s shoulders while the colonel supported his back, Nick made it up the stairs without incident. He unlocked the door with the key he’d been given, and faced the colonel, embarrassed.

“Thank you,” he said clearly.

“Anytime, son.” He clapped Nick on the back.

Son.

His own father had rarely called him son.

For the second time in as many days, he’d felt more affection from a man he’d just met than he’d felt in a lifetime with his father.