This Good Man

“Then why are you asking me—”

“All we’re trying to do is determine whether any of you saw anything. If possible, we’d like to be sure none of you boys set the fire.”

“Why would we?”

She gave him a little lecture about how arson was a form of acting out and how some of the boys who came here were troubled. Good word—troubled. He hadn’t yet asked anyone else why they were here, but he knew it had to be shit as bad as he’d experienced. And, like had happened with him, the police and courts had screwed them over, too. That was what this place was—a last resort.

Hey, pun.

Caleb repeated that he’d been asleep until he heard Roger bellowing for help. He’d looked out his window but hadn’t seen anything—his window faced the wrong way—but then he’d stuck his head out into the hall to find out what was going on.

“I heard you yelling there was a fire, to hurry and get dressed, so I hammered on TJ’s door.” TJ was the other guy who had a room upstairs at the lodge. Caleb didn’t really like TJ, who had a major chip on his shoulder and an explosive temper. “He yelled, ‘What?’ You know, like he was pissed I’d woken him up.”

Paula nodded. TJ was always pissed. It was March now, and Caleb had been here since right after Christmas. TJ had already been here a couple of months then. He was probably stuck living in the lodge because no one wanted to share a cabin with him. Caleb had a really bad feeling they’d end up paired whether he liked it or not.

“Was he dressed when he came out?” she asked.

Caleb cast his mind back. “No, he was buck naked. His hair was flat on one side and sticking up on the other. I told him there was a fire and Roger needed help putting it out. He sort of shrugged and went back into his room.” TJ had eventually showed up to help haul buckets of water from the creek.

“You were a big help fighting the fire,” Paula said. “Thank you.”

“You weren’t using that cabin anyway, right?”

She gave him sort of a funny look. “No, but the flames could have spread. And what if the same somebody decides to set another fire?”

“How do you know it wasn’t, like, bad wiring or something?” he asked, feeling awkward but not liking what she was suggesting. What if whoever it was set the lodge on fire next time?

“Didn’t you smell the gasoline?”

He frowned, remembering. “I guess. I thought it was propane. I mean, there’s a tank outside the lodge.”

“But not the cabins.”

He nodded after a minute.

“And you know your brother was here this morning to take a look. He showed Roger where the fire started. It wasn’t near an electrical outlet or in the kitchen area where there were any appliances.”

Your brother. He hadn’t gotten used to those words. They made him feel...twitchy. As if he couldn’t sit still.

“I know you boys are talking about it.” Paula sounded weary. “I wouldn’t normally encourage any of you to rat on each other, but this is serious. Even scary. Please come to Roger or me—or Reid,” she added, “if you hear anything that makes you uneasy.”

That was one of the reasons he wasn’t settling in here. It was knowing the only reason they’d taken him was Reid. That Reid was like their real son, and Caleb was only a favor they were doing for him.

He nodded, even though he didn’t know if he was really agreeing to anything, and asked, “Can I go?”

“Yes. Thank you, Caleb. If you see Isaac, will you send him in?”

“Um...sure.”

He went outside to look for Diego, who’d been grilled right before Caleb. Fun Sunday—taking turns facing an inquisition. And after they’d all busted their asses helping to put out the fire last night.

He found Diego splitting wood, watched by two of the other guys, Damon and Isaac. They must have been talking, because they all turned and looked at him.

“Paula wants you,” Caleb said to Isaac, a lanky, beak-nosed seventeen-year-old. He was some kind of math genius who’d helped Caleb with his geometry the other day.

Isaac nodded and left. He never had much to say. He’d probably been doing nothing but listening to what the other two were saying.

Diego lifted the ax and swung. Thud. A chunk of wood split and fell from the big round of fir they used as a base.

Damon glanced over his shoulder, as if to make sure Isaac was really out of earshot. “Palmer doesn’t think Isaac was in his cabin when Roger woke everyone up,” he said.

“What?” Diego stared at him, the ax dangling from his hand. “How would Palmer know? He’s, like, two cabins away.”

“That’s what he says. Only Apollo came out.”

“Did anyone ask Apollo?”

Damon sneered. “Like he’d say. They’re tight.”

“Tight enough to lie about something like that?” Caleb asked, almost reluctantly.

“Shit, yeah!”

“I don’t know.” Diego sounded doubtful.

“What?” Damon stepped forward, his stance aggressive. “You’re saying Palmer’s lying?”

“I’m saying maybe Isaac was sound asleep and slower to get up. He’s been here, like, three years. If he wanted to set fires, why wouldn’t he have done it before?”

“Who says he hasn’t? None of the rest of us have been here that long.”

Caleb shook his head. “This is stupid. We don’t know anything. We shouldn’t be making accusations because somebody said somebody else said.”

Damon swung an angry stare at Caleb. “Who are you calling stupid?”

Caleb balanced on his feet in case this asshole decided to make it physical. “Nobody. I’m saying we should stick together, not whisper about each other.”

“You would say that.”

Caleb was getting pissed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re new here. You could have gone out easy. Come back in just as easy.”

“I don’t set fires,” he said flatly, when what he wanted to do was plant his fist in the guy’s mouth.

“Yeah? We don’t know you.”

“You mean, you don’t know shit,” Caleb shot back.

Damon launched himself. A moment later, they were rolling on the ground and Caleb had the satisfaction of feeling his knuckles connecting with Damon’s nose.

* * *

CALEB’S SPLIT LIP had crusted over. The black eye had faded to mauve and puce, but was still visible. Reid assessed the range of colors. The fight must have taken place in the neighborhood of three days ago. Today was Wednesday, so the injury had likely happened Sunday after the fire. When suspicion had begun to gather.

“What?” Caleb snarled. “I suppose you’re here to give me some big lecture about being a good boy and not fighting while your best buds the Hales are being generous enough to give me a home.”

They were in the front room of the lodge, temporarily alone. Determined to hide the tension his brother had awakened with his obvious hostility, Reid leaned back where he sat on the sagging sofa and clasped his hands behind his head. “I didn’t know you’d been in a fight until I saw your face,” he said mildly. “I came to see you.”

“Oh, right. Like they didn’t call you the minute it happened.”

Reid shook his head, his experienced eye dating the progression of the bruises. “Has to have been a few days.”

Caleb stared stubbornly at him.

Reid sighed. “This is not a school. They don’t call me every time you get in trouble.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Your privilege.” He raised his eyebrows. “Do you want to tell me?”

It was disconcerting seeing the sullenness gathered on a face that looked so much like his own. Caleb must be giving the Hales flashbacks. “What if I say no?” his brother challenged him.

“That’s your privilege, too.”

They sat in silence for what had to be a minute. Clattering came from the kitchen, but nobody appeared. It wasn’t Paula; Reid knew she’d driven up to Bend to load up on basics at Costco.

Caleb glanced toward the kitchen, but the two of them were far enough away to go unheard.

“There’s been a lot of shit talked since the fire,” he mumbled. “This one guy said I’m the newest, so it must be me who set it.” He shrugged. “I told him I didn’t, and to shut up.”

Reid’s mouth quirked. “He didn’t like that, I gather.”

“He’ll know better than to go for me next time. I broke his nose.”

God. How was he supposed to handle this? A fatherly lecture wouldn’t go over well, assuming he knew how to give one. All their father would have wanted to know was why Caleb had let a fist get through his defenses.

I’m not his father. I’m his brother.

Yeah, no on-the-job experience there, either. The feeling of helplessness didn’t sit well with Reid.

“So you know how to fight” was the best he could come up with.

Caleb bent his head so Reid couldn’t see his face. “I guess.”

“You miss being on sports teams?”

Caleb shrugged.

This was going nowhere. Reid decided to let it drop and get to what he’d come out here for. Besides visiting his brother, making sure he was okay.

“Dad called.”

“What?” The boy’s head snapped up. “You mean, that stuff about him thinking you were dead was bullshit?”

“He never thought that,” Reid said flatly. “He just didn’t want to give you any ideas.”

Caleb shook his head as if dazed. “Wait. He knows where you are?”

“After I turned eighteen and started college, my guess is he’s always tracked me. I thought about changing my name, but I never did. I figured, what could he do to me?” Reid’s turn to shrug. He didn’t like saying this, but had to. “He asked if I had you.”

Fear darkened Caleb’s eyes. “What did you say?”

“No, of course.” That wasn’t all he’d said. He’d also said mockingly, So you lost another son. Guess you didn’t learn anything the first time around.

It might have been smarter to ask who the hell Caleb was. He doubted his father would have bought the pretense, though. If he’d kept checking on Reid over the years, Dean Sawyer would know his oldest son was a cop. They were a paranoid bunch, and his father was more paranoid than most, as well as arrogant. He was bound to assume Reid had remained wary enough to keep checking up on him.

Caleb jumped to his feet, his face pinched with fear. “What if he comes here looking for me?”

Reid let his hands fall to his sides. “What if he does? Not many people know what the Hales’ place is. It’s way out of town. How could he possibly find you here?”

“I don’t know, but— Jesus.”

Reid straightened. “It does mean you need to stick close to home. Don’t go into town for now. If a car pulls into the driveway, stay out of sight. If Dad comes down to Oregon to look around, he’ll find out I live alone. The job was a promotion for me. There’s no reason for him to question why I moved here. I haven’t told anyone about you or my connection to the shelter.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! He won’t let me go.”

Reid added steel to his voice. “You’re already gone. You told me that yourself. Remember?”

“If he shows up, some of the guys would tell him in a second I’m here!” Caleb’s panic was unreasoning. He backed away and almost stumbled over a side table.

“And why is that?” Reid asked.

His brother’s face twisted into an ugly expression and he let loose an expletive. “Has to be my fault, right?”

Reid rose to his feet. “I didn’t say—”

“Yeah, well, you’ve warned me.” His gaze raked Reid. “Nothing like having a brother who’ll nobly risk everything for my sake.”

The churning inside felt like heartburn or something worse. Reid held Caleb’s gaze. “You want to come home with me right now? Take Daddy on? Is that it?”

“No!” the boy shouted. “I don’t need you, okay? Thank you for coming. Goodbye.”

The front door of the lodge slammed behind him. Reid was left standing alone, baffled, frustrated, angry...and hurt.

* * *

ANNA DIDN’T REMEMBER ever setting eyes on Reid Sawyer’s predecessor in real life. On television when he was campaigning, but that was different.

So she couldn’t believe it when Reid appeared at the back of the room when she was giving a talk at the library Wednesday night. “The Joys and Frustrations of Providing Foster Care: An Honest Q & A,” the flyer had said. She’d been pleasantly surprised to have an audience of twelve people. Who knew, she might get a new foster home out of this group.

She’d been rolling along, being truthful but upbeat, even eliciting some laughs, when a flicker of movement drew her gaze to the man who’d paused in the open doorway leading to the lobby. It had been only a few days since he’d stung her by making it plain he wouldn’t be calling. What were the odds they’d happen to run into each other three times in one week?

Hair tousled and wearing jeans and an unzipped parka with gloves sticking out of one pocket, he might have gone unrecognized by her audience if she hadn’t felt such a flare of...something. Anger, she told herself, and knew better.

With malice aforethought, she said in a ringing voice, “Captain Sawyer. How good of you to stop in.” Her entire audience swiveled to stare at the newcomer. “Folks, this is our new Angel Butte Police Department captain of Investigative and Support Services. Say hi.”

A chorus of voices greeted him.

His eyes met hers very briefly, expressing an astonishing amount given that she doubted anyone else in the room would so much as notice.

“Glad to see such a turnout,” he said, inclining his head.

“Would you like to join us?” she asked.

“No, I, uh...” He backed up. “Just thought I’d look in.”

His retreat duly noted, the audience turned back to her. Trying to put him out of her mind, Anna struggled to remember where she’d been in her familiar script. She sneaked a glance at the clock. Oh, well. With only fifteen minutes left to go, she could fill the time with questions.

When she asked if anyone had any, a gratifying number of hands shot up.

By the time she finished, she felt really good about the evening. Several people talked to her afterward and took the brochures and initial applications she’d brought. The last of them left, and she gathered up her material and notes, then started for the door. She still had ten minutes before the library closed to take a quick look at the new books. Anna was chagrined to catch herself wondering whether Reid might still be in the library.

She was reaching for the light switch when he once again filled the doorway.

“Anna.”

“Captain Sawyer.”

“Surely we’re to the first-name stage.”

She pretended to look surprised. “Are we?”

His jaw tightened.

“Did you need something?” she asked, keeping her voice pleasant. “You know that I’m more involved in supervising foster homes than in working directly with the kids. But if you have a question, I might be able to refer you to someone who can help—”

“I don’t have a question.” His irritation was obvious.

“Then?”

His jaw muscles spasmed again. “Never mind. Have a good evening, Ms. Grant.”

He was shrugging on the parka and walking toward the exit when she hurriedly followed him out into the lobby. She’d been a bitch, and all because he’d made it obvious he wasn’t interested in her. Politely.

“Captain... Reid,” she said more softly.

For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to stop. He was almost to the exterior doors when he hesitated and turned. “Anna.”

Now she felt awkward. “You must have had something you wanted to talk to me about.”

He looked at her for a long moment, his face unreadable, as it so often was. “Call it an impulse,” he said finally.

“I’m really not in any hurry.” She didn’t move closer to him, but kept her voice down for reasons she didn’t understand. The moment seemed...significant. The two of them were very alone, though there was activity behind her in the brightly lit library proper, while headlights were coming on out in the parking lot. They were bound to be interrupted any minute; with the library closing, patrons would be streaming out, or someone would emerge from one of the restrooms. She suddenly, desperately, wanted to know why he’d hung around to talk to her.

“I have a problem with a teenager,” he said slowly. “I thought you might be an expert available for consultation.”

Her disappointment was acute. So he’d wanted her only in her professional capacity. Of course. Trying for brisk, she said, “I don’t know that I’d call myself an expert on teenagers in particular, but I’m happy to help if I can.” She did owe him one. She shifted the weight of the heavy bag slung over her shoulder and started toward him and the exit. “You’re welcome to call me, or—”

“It’s my brother.” Lines had deepened on his forehead. He looked disconcerted, as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

“A teenager?” she blurted in surprise.

That very speaking eyebrow of his twitched. “Think I’m too old to have a brother that young?”

“Well, um, yes?”

He grimaced. “You’re right. I am. I should have said half brother. Who I didn’t know existed until a few months ago.”

“That sounds like a story.” He wasn’t moving, so she came to a stop.

“It is.” He shook his head. “You probably just want to get home.”

“Actually, now you have me interested,” she admitted. She didn’t know what had happened the last time they had seen each other. She would have sworn he’d been checking out her body, if smoothly. He wouldn’t have suggested coffee if he hadn’t been attracted to her, would he? It was more as if she’d said something wrong. The annoying part was having no idea what that could have been. It might be that he’d happened to be at the library tonight, saw that she was speaking and thought, Aha! There’s someone I can talk to. He did say it was an impulse. But...she didn’t believe that. He hadn’t been carrying any books earlier, and he didn’t have one in his hands now, either. She had a feeling he had come looking for her.

“I suppose you’ve had dinner.” He sounded almost tentative.

“Actually, no. But you don’t need to feed me.”

“I wouldn’t mind having something to eat myself. How about Chandler’s Brewpub?”

“They often have live music,” she pointed out. “Not so great if you want to talk.” She hesitated. “Will you be shocked if I confess I was planning to go to A&W? I really wanted a root-beer float.”

He flashed a grin that made her knees wobble. “A root-beer float and French fries sound damn good to me.” He pushed open the door, letting in a blast of cold air, and waited for her to go through.

She gave an involuntary shiver. “You know where it is?”

“I do.”

“My car’s that way.” She gestured vaguely. “See you there.”

He raised a hand and strode away.

* * *

ANNA INSISTED ON paying for her own meal, a clear message. She carried her tray toward a far booth even though the place was empty but for one other couple, leaving him to place his own order and follow a minute later.

He slid onto the hard plastic bench across from her. “Think we’ll hear our numbers from here?”

“I thought you might not want to be overheard,” she said coolly.

“You’re right.”

He still didn’t know what he was doing here. Not an unusual state for him these days. Confusion seemed to be his new usual. Still—he’d made the decision to stay away from Anna, and yet here he was, three whole days later, having sought her out.

Weirdly, when he had driven away from the shelter this afternoon, he’d immediately thought of her. By serendipity, he’d spotted a notice in the morning paper for her talk at the library, so he guessed that was why she’d been at the back of his mind. He could talk to her about Caleb’s issues, he’d thought, without saying anything about his relationship to the boy. Then what was the first thing out of his mouth? He’s my brother.

“There’s mine,” she said abruptly, sliding out of the booth.

Her number. He’d been so busy brooding, he hadn’t even heard.

She was still up there when his was called, but when he turned, Anna waved him back to his seat. She returned with his food, as well as her own.

“Damn, that smells good,” he said, hungrily reaching for his French fries. “This was a good idea.”

“Yes, it was.” She took a slurp from her root-beer float then unwrapped her cheeseburger.

“How’d your talk go?” he asked between bites, aiming to put off a conversation he still wasn’t sure he wanted to have.

“Hmm? Oh, good. We’re always short of homes, which means I put in a lot of time recruiting new foster parents.”

“Is Angel’s Haven local only?”

“You mean Butte County? Mostly, but we do have some scattered foster homes in Deschutes and Klamath Counties. If someone good prefers to work with us rather than an agency closer to them, we don’t turn them away. The home has to be near enough for us to visit easily, though.”

He nodded. She talked about some of the questions people had asked tonight, and about the fears she thought kept people from being willing to take in children who might—and often did—have problems.

She switched gears when she finished her burger. “Are you going to tell me how you didn’t know you had a brother?”

Reid grunted, no closer to having made a decision about how much to tell her. “I haven’t stayed in touch with my father. Didn’t know he’d remarried. A few months ago, I ran a check on him. Turns out he’s divorced, but they had another kid who stayed with him rather than going with the mother. Caleb. He’s...a mess.”

Anna’s big gray eyes were compassionate. “In what way?”

“Our father was abusive.” He paused, frowning. “Is.”

“I...see.”

Damn it, there she went again. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d said over coffee that scared the shit out of him? The trouble was, she meant it. She saw more than he’d said. And this time he’d set himself up for it.

He reached for a French fry, attempting to look more casual than he felt. “I’m...trying to build a relationship with Caleb. He doesn’t want to trust me.”

“Maybe he can’t.”

“Can’t?” He stared at her, inexplicably angry. “What are you suggesting? That he’s broken and unfixable?”

Like me? The quick thought was unwelcome. If he believed himself to be permanently damaged...maybe Caleb was, too. Maybe he’d found him too late. It was disconcerting to realize how pissed he was at the very idea.

But Anna was frowning repressively at him. “Of course not. I’d never suggest anything of the kind. I’ve seen too many children from horrific homes blossom when they feel safe and loved.”

Damn. She sounded like Paula.

“I hardly know him,” he said. “Love... That’s asking a lot.”

“Can you bring him to live with you?”

“I don’t see that as an option.”

“Why not?” she asked.

He should have known she wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“Aside from the fact I have a job that demands a whole hell of a lot more than forty hours a week?”

“How old is Caleb?”

“Fifteen,” he said reluctantly.

“Unless you live way out of town, he could get himself home from after-school activities, to friends’ houses. He could take on responsibility for putting dinner on the table some nights. He doesn’t need the same time commitment from you that a younger child would.”

His appetite had deserted him. “His father won’t let him go without an ugly court battle.”

“So you’re just going to leave him?” Her spine had straightened and her eyes held the light of battle. Despite the topic and the fact she was judging him, Reid was disconcerted to find his body responding to the fire in her. Apparently, he was turned on by a woman who could take to task not only a crusty desk sergeant, but also a stone-faced police captain.

At least she hadn’t commented on what he’d said—his father. No one he wanted to claim.

“That’s not entirely my decision,” he pointed out. “What I’d like to understand is why Caleb is trying to reject me, too.”

He basked in the way her face softened.

“When you were his age, would trust have come easily to you?” she asked.