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She turned her face toward the ceiling. "You've seen me for the last time, Dodge. I want nothing to do with you. Our daughter will never know you, or you her. Enjoy being a detective. Have a good life. Now get away from me."
He stood there beside the bed for a full two minutes, but she didn't look at him again. He left the room, and then the hospital, because he really would be a brute to stay and hassle a woman who'd just given birth. He didn't want to cause a scene and further humiliate Caroline in front of hospital personnel and other new mothers whose partners had been with them when their babies came into the world.
He went out to retrieve his car and practically came to blows with the hospital parking Nazi who accused him of impersonating a police officer. Because he couldn't carry ID around Crystal and Albright, Dodge couldn't prove the guy wrong. So he shoved him out of his way, gave him the finger, said "Sue me," then sped away with the guy threatening legal repercussions.
In the house he'd been ordered out of, he stripped the soiled sheets off the bed and replaced them with fresh. He vacuumed the living room rug. He emptied all the trash cans and scrubbed the bathroom fixtures till they were sparkling. While carrying out these chores, he planned what else he could do to win back Caroline's favor.
On the day she was due to come home, he would put flowers in the bedroom. In the baby's room, too. Pink ones. He'd stock the fridge and pantry with Caroline's favorite foods. He'd leave chocolates on her pillow every night. He'd get up with her each time she had to nurse the baby. He would fetch and carry. He'd give her back rubs. He'd buy the baby stuffed toys and lacy outfits that Caroline would call extravagant but would secretly adore. He'd do anything and everything, whatever it took to change her mind.
He had to have her in his life, or his life wouldn't be worth shit. It was as simple as that. He must convince her to take him back. But first, he must prove himself worthy.
When the house was as perfect as he could make it, he showered, shaved, dressed, and drove to the task force office. There was only one guy in the large room, and he was on the phone. Seeing Dodge, he hung up. "Where have you been? Why didn't you answer your page?"
"I--"
"Doesn't matter. He hit a bank at eight oh seven this morning. Right after it opened."
"Jesus! You're kidding. Crystal told me the twenty-fifth. Albright must've--"
"Albright? Forget Albright. Our guy's some dickweed executive for a pharmaceutical company. No priors. We never would have looked at him. Not in a million years. Can you believe it?"
CHAPTER
26
DODGE CAME TO THE END OF HIS LONG STORY.
"This pharmaceutical executive t
hought he was smarter than everybody else. He robbed the first bank as a lark, just to see if he could get away with it. When he did, he tried it again. And again. He said it got addictive.
"I guess that young guard he killed gave him an extra-special rush. I wonder how much fun he had on death row. I'm sure he's been executed by now, unless he received a pardon. When I moved to Atlanta, I lost track." He shifted on the faux leather bench and, in a lower tone, added, "But for you, that's probably the least interesting part of the story."
Berry had been listening for almost an hour without speaking a word. She cleared her throat and took a sip from the water glass that Grace had refilled without her even noticing. "What happened to Franklin Albright?"
"ATF caught him and his so-called cousin conducting a lucrative business in automatic weapons. They were selling them to drug cartels across the border."
"Crystal?"
Dodge sighed and shook his head ruefully. "I guess she finally figured out that Marvin wasn't coming back to rescue her from the motel. I lost track of her, too."
"You never saw her again?"
"No. Marvin vanished from her life."
Berry hesitated, then asked in a quieter voice, "And Mother?"
"I'd failed to uphold every promise I'd made her. So I did as she ordered and was out of the house by the time she brought you home. I didn't see her again until last Saturday. Or you, either." He gave her an appraising look. "Your hair's still red, but your nose is no longer flat."
She returned his wistful smile. Her moods had shifted a dozen times while he'd been telling his story. She'd gone from curiosity to anger to heartache. She wasn't sure which emotion she should land on, so she let them ebb and flow as they would without making a conscious effort to claim one.
She said, "The task force was disbanded."
"Yep."
"And you made detective."
"No. My reputation with HPD fluctuated somewhere between a laughingstock and a fuckup. I was assigned to another beat, another partner. Actually, I had a series of partners because I was a shit-heel to all of them, and nobody wanted to ride with me.
