Alone (Detective D.D. Warren, #1)(56)

“Was it hard?” Bobby asked quietly. “Afterwards, I mean.”

“After what? After I shot the man in Arizona, or after I shot Jim Beckett?”

“Either one.”

“Sorry to say, son, but I've never killed a man.”

“Not even Jim Beckett?”

“No.” Dillon smiled ruefully, then flexed out his shoulder. “Though it wasn't from lack of trying.”

“Oh,” Bobby said, though he hadn't meant to sound so disappointed.

Dillon looked at him awhile, contemplating. Finally, the man gestured around the empty space. “Ten years ago,” he announced, “I would never have thought I'd be here. Never thought I'd have a wife. Never thought I'd have two daughters. Never thought I'd be . . . happy.”

“Because of Beckett?” Bobby asked.

“Because of a lot of things. Maybe I've never killed a man, but for a lot of my life, I came close enough.” Dillon shrugged. “I remember what it's like to sit and wait with your crosshairs sighted on a human head. I know what it's like to will yourself to pull the trigger.”

“I didn't think much of it at the time.”

“Of course not. At the time, you were too busy. At the time, you were doing your job. It's now, in all the hours and days to come, in all the moments when life gets quiet, that you're gonna find yourself remembering again, wondering for the eleven hundredth time what you could have done differently. If you could have done something differently.”

“I keep telling myself it doesn't matter. What's done is done. No use torturing myself with it now.”

“Sound advice.”

“So why aren't I taking it?”

“You never will. You wanna talk about regrets? I can talk about regrets, Officer Dodge. I can give you a whole laundry list of people I wished I had saved and people I wished I had killed. Give me five minutes and a bottle of tequila, and I can destroy my whole life.”

“But you don't.”

“You have to find something, Officer Dodge. Something that anchors you, something that keeps you looking forward, even on the bad days, when you're tempted to look back.”

“Your family,” Bobby guessed.

“My family,” Dillon agreed evenly.

Bobby looked him in the eye. “So who really killed Jim Beckett?”

“Tess did.”

“Your wife?”

“Yeah, that woman can sure wield a shotgun.”

“And she's doing okay with that? Killing him?”

“Honestly? She hasn't touched a gun since.”





C ATHERINE ARRIVED AT the hospital just in time to find her in-laws standing by the nurses' desk.

“I'm the boy's grandfather,” James was saying with his best you-want-to-cooperate-with-me grin. “Of course it's okay for me to take the boy home.”

“Sir, Nathan's mother signed the admit papers. I can't do anything without consulting her.”

“And it's wonderful that you're so diligent. I commend you. Unfortunately, my daughter-in-law is extremely busy with funeral preparations right now. Hence, we were sent to get Nathan. It's the least we could do during this very trying time.”

James tightened his arm around Maryanne. On cue, she joined him in smiling at the nurse. Maryanne was a shade paler than James, dark shadows bruising her eyes, but still with every hair and pearl in place. They made an impeccable united front. The powerful judge and his fragile, charming wife.

Already, the nurse seemed to be weakening.

James leaned forward, pressing the advantage. “Let's go see Nathan. He'll be very excited to go with us. You'll see that it's all right.”

“I should at least consult his doctor,” the nurse murmured, then glanced down at the admit papers and promptly frowned. “Oh dear.”

“What is it?”

“Nathan's pediatrician, Dr. Rocco. I'm afraid . . . Oh dear, oh dear.” The nurse's voice trailed off. She was clearly distressed by what had happened to Dr. Rocco, and now becoming quickly overwhelmed.

Catherine took that as her cue. She walked up to the desk, gaze going straight to the nurse's name tag.

“Nurse Brandi, so good to see you again. How is Nathan this morning?”

“Feeling better,” the nurse said brightly, then glanced nervously from Catherine to James and Maryanne, then to Catherine again.

Catherine decided to solve the dilemma for the woman. She put her hand on her father-in-law's arm. A first-class showman himself, he didn't flinch.

“Thank you so much for helping out,” she told James with a warm smile, then flashed the same grateful grin over at Maryanne. “Fortunately, I finished up at the funeral parlor sooner than I expected, so I came to get Nathan myself.”

“Really, you shouldn't have,” James said. “Maryanne and I would be delighted to watch the boy for a while. You should rest.”

“Yes, dear,” Maryanne echoed. “You must be exhausted. Let us watch Nathan. We have this wonderful room at the Hotel LeRoux. It will be a great treat for him after all this time in a hospital.”

“Oh no. I'm sure after everything Nathan has been through, it would be much nicer for him to go straight home.”