Where Angels Tread (2 page)

“That’s okay,” the chief had replied, walking over to where Shane was sitting on the floor and kneeling down beside him. He gently removed his cap and placed it on Shane’s head, then unpinned his badge and dropped it into the little boy’s open palm. Shane turned it over, closely examining the motto—“To serve and protect”—and knew then, even at such a young age, that he would someday be standing before a class, just like Officer Palen.

That afternoon, Shane bounded off the school bus and dashed into the kitchen, where he found his mother Michelle trying to convince his baby sister Lacey, whose face was smeared with pureed peas, to eat her dinner. When Michelle saw Shane’s face, flushed with excitement, she wiped her hands on a towel and placed them on his shoulders. She squatted down to his level, and staring him straight in the eyes like she did with each of her children, said, “What do you have to tell me?”

Tumbling over his words in his haste to describe the epiphany he had that day, Shane told his mother all about the police chief’s visit. “When I grow up,” he announced, chomping happily on the plate of crackers she offered him, “I’m going to be a police officer, and I’m going to get rid of all the bad guys.”

Rather than laughing at his eagerness, his mother nodded seriously and sat down beside him, taking his small hand in her own. “If that’s what you want to do, you’re going to have to work really hard to accomplish it. I know you can do it, or anything else you set your mind to.” With that, she ruffled his hair and turned back to Lacey, who was now teething on her plastic spoon and rubbing peas in her wispy blond hair.

His mother never again brought up their conversation; she didn’t have to. She knew that Shane would take whatever steps he needed to in order to achieve his dreams, and she would stand beside him along the way, cheering him on. When Shane Kensington said he was going to do something, he meant it.

He glanced outside, the front doors of the station fogged over from the pounding rain outside. Nights like this were usually quiet; most Californians tended to huddle inside when the roads were slick with rain. While some of his fellow officers chose to take advantage of the silent dispatcher by playing a heated game of Texas hold ‘em in the back room, Shane neglected to join them. They hadn’t asked him; in fact, other than Buddy most of his colleagues tended to look right past him these days. Shane couldn’t blame them; in a job where brotherhood and close friendships were the norm, Shane had chosen to isolate himself. He didn’t used to be that way; a few years ago Shane would have been in the thick of the game, throwing down twenties and teasing the other men about his stellar hand of cards. But things were different now.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shane saw Buddy sauntering out of the break room, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. Shane quickly averted his eyes from the window; he didn’t want Buddy to know that he had been dwelling on the events of the past, the ones he couldn’t change. “Long night,” Buddy said, digging his phone out of his pocket and glancing at the time. “Could use a little excitement, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Shane, who smiled back weakly.

Just then, the doors to the police station flung open and Nick, a young officer mere weeks out of the academy, walked in. Behind him stood a sullen boy, shivering in the cold and looking down at the gray linoleum floor. “Sit there.” Nick pointed to the empty row of orange plastic chairs lining the wall. “I’m going to call your mother now so she can come and pick you up.”

The boy glowered at Nick briefly, then slumped over in one of the chairs, pulled out an MP3 player and a pair of headphones, and cranked up the volume. Shane could hear the steady beat of the music from across the room; it sounded like some kind of God-awful heavy metal. Teenagers these days, he thought, shaking his head in annoyance. If Shane would have ever been brought into the police station, he would have been quaking in his boots, afraid of what his father would say when he found out that Shane was in trouble. Shane could picture his father’s face, lined with disappointment. The Kensingtons had been raised to respect rules. By contrast, this boy seemed, if anything, kind of bored.

Nick peeled off his coat and nodded to Shane. “Want to handle it from here?” He disappeared into the back room, Buddy at his heels, and Shane could hear the other officers greeting them enthusiastically.

Shane heaved a sigh, then got up from his post behind the front desk and crossed the room to where the boy was sitting with his eyes closed, tapping his feet in time to the music. As Shane approached him, he realized with a jolt that the boy was young, much younger than he originally thought. His bright red hair was flattened around his ears, and a smattering of freckles dotted his nose and cheeks. Despite the tough-guy persona he seemed to be trying to give off, with his ill-fitting black clothes and studded belt, Shane guessed that the boy couldn’t be more than ten or eleven. What on earth was he doing out alone on a night like this?

“Mind if I sit down?” he asked the boy, who peered at him from beneath his bangs and shrugged, then resumed tapping his foot. Shane bit back a smile; as the oldest of eight siblings, he knew a thing or two about bratty behavior. Luckily, he was a patient man; Shane felt confident that he would be able to get the boy to open up to him. “What’s your name, son?”

The boy winced at the last word. “Zachary,” he mumbled. “Zachary Griffin.”

“Nice to meet you, Zachary. I’m Officer Kensington, but you can call me Shane. What kind of music are you listening to?” He pointed at the MP3 player. Zachary turned the music up a smidge louder, as though trying to drown out the sound of Shane’s voice.

Shane was undeterred. “I like country, myself,” he said, leaning his head against the wall. The music was so loud at this point that he could feel his heart beating along with the drums. He reached over and gently removed the player from Zachary’s hands, and motioned for him to take off his headphones. After throwing Shane a bad-tempered look, the boy complied.

“Thank you,” Shane said cheerfully. “Now that we’ve been introduced, why don’t you tell me why you were outside by yourself tonight? It’s dangerous to be roaming the streets on your own in this kind of weather. You could have been hit by a car.”

Zachary shrugged again. “I ran away for a while.”

Shane nodded slowly, careful to keep the line of communication open between himself and Zachary. He had a feeling that the boy was vulnerable; perhaps he needed to talk to someone. “Where were you running to?”

Shane sensed immediately that he had asked the wrong question; Zachary’s eyes clouded over, and he slumped further in his chair. “Fine. You don’t have to tell me where you were going. But why don’t you at least tell me where you were coming from. I’m sure your parents are worried sick about you.”

“Am I in trouble?” Shane was taken aback by the pleading tone in the boy’s voice. He knew that beneath the tough exterior lived a little boy who was probably scared silly.

“Not with me, you aren’t. Our job is just to keep you safe. I can’t say the same for your parents. I’m going to have to call them here in a minute to come and pick you up.”

Zachary nodded, picking at a piece of dirt lodged beneath his fingernail. “It’s just my mom. You can call her on her cell phone. She’s probably out looking for me.”

Shane poured a cool glass of water for Zachary and punched in the phone number the boy had given him. A frantic voice answered on the first ring. “Mrs. Griffin? I’m Officer Kensington, with the Santa Ynez Police Department.”

“Oh my God. Is Zachary okay?”

“Yes ma’am, he’s fine. A little wet, but safe and sound. I’m going to need you to come down to the station and pick him up. We’ll look after him until then.”

“I’ll be right there. Thank you so much for finding him.”

She hung up the phone, and Shane quietly laid the receiver back down. “Your mother will be here shortly,” he called to Zachary, who nodded and gulped down the rest of his water without taking a breath. He crumpled the paper cup in his hands and tossed it into the trash can across the room; his aim was perfect. “Wow, I’m impressed.” Shane walked over to the trash and looked inside. “That was a perfect shot. Do you play basketball?”

“Used to,” Zachary mumbled. “When I was younger. I don’t play anymore.”

“Too bad,” Shane said, grabbing a few pieces of paper and rolling them into a ball. “Care for a quick game of one-on-one?”

He tossed the paper balls to Zachary, and watched as a slow grin lit up the boy’s face. “You’re on,” he said happily.

Heidi barreled up to the front doors of the police station, all dignity forgotten. She knew that she looked crazed; her mascara, supposedly waterproof, was running in streams down her cheeks, her hair was plastered to her head like a helmet, and she was so wet that she looked as though she had just climbed out of a swimming pool. Or a giant puddle.

Warm, wonderful relief coursed through her half-frozen body as she spotted Zachary through the window standing next to a police officer who had his back to Heidi. But what she saw next stopped her in her tracks; she hardly believed her own eyes. As she watched, Zachary lifted one arm above his head and lobbed what appeared to be a paper ball across the room, where it landed squarely in the garbage can. The officer cheered and clapped, and Zachary lifted up his hand for a high-five, his face shining with happiness. Heidi covered her mouth with her hands, unsure if she wanted to interrupt what looked like the most fun her boy had experienced in a long time.

Zachary glanced at the window and saw her standing there, and his shoulders immediately slumped. She took a deep breath and, steeling herself, pushed through the doors. Her eyes on her son, she barely noticed the officer standing beside him turn to greet her. “Are you okay?” she asked, rushing to Zachary’s side and pulling him into a tight hug.

“Mom, I’m fine,” he muttered, ducking out from her embrace and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Are you sure?” she asked anxiously, brushing his matted hair back from his forehead. Before he could stop her, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. To her surprise, he patted her arm comfortingly.

“I’m
fine
.”

“Mrs. Griffin? I’m Officer Kensington.”

Swinging around gratefully to offer her thanks, Heidi found herself face-to-face with one of the most handsome men she had ever laid eyes on. His brown hair was thick and wavy, his features were rugged and outdoorsy, and his body was muscular and toned. And his eyes. Oh God, those eyes. They were the palest shade of blue that Heidi had ever seen, and they contrasted sharply with his tanned skin, piercing her own eyes in a way that made her hot under the collar. She could practically feel her skin burning beneath the light sweater she wore. Crossing her arms around her body, self-consciously aware that her clothes were plastered against her skin, she averted her eyes in an attempt to clear her mind. “Thank you for finding my son.”

“Glad we could help.” His voice was soft, which was unexpected, given the imposing figure that he made standing before her in his crisp uniform. Heidi felt a shiver run through her entire body; something, she thought with a sinking feeling, that had little to do with her rain-soaked clothes.

“Can I take him home now?” She glanced at her son, who was now staring silently at the ceiling. Heidi could see that he was shutting down again, building the protective wall around himself that he used to ignore his emotions. To ignore Heidi. Try as she might, she would soon be unable to reach him.

“I just need you to sign some paperwork, and you can be on your way.” Officer Kensington walked briskly to the front desk, where he rummaged around in a drawer for a moment before handing Heidi a few sheets of paper and a pen. “This should only take a minute or two.”

Heidi filled out the paperwork obediently, every now and then chancing a glance in the officer’s direction. She was surprised by her attraction to him. She knew that she needn’t feel guilty, but she and John had been together for so many years that she had forgotten the thrill of excitement that came with finding herself drawn to another man. Not that anything could come of it; dating was out of the question.

After signing her name with a flourish, she handed the paperwork back to Officer Kensington and motioned for Zachary to follow her. “Thank you again for picking him up. I was out of my mind with worry when I got your call.”

He smiled at her, revealing a row of even, white teeth. Kind of like the teeth you saw in a toothpaste commercial, Heidi thought, staring at his mouth. Suddenly aware of what she was doing, she snapped her head up and tried to tune in to what he was saying.

“Not a problem, Mrs. Griffin.”

“Call me Heidi,” she said hurriedly. “You rescued my son, so I think we can be on a first name basis.”

“Okay, then, Heidi.” He tipped his cap at her smartly, then offered her a wink. “You can call me Shane.”

What the hell was he thinking? Had he never come across a beautiful woman before? A wink, for crying out loud. He had winked at her. He may as well have offered to take off her clothes right then and there. What a chump.