Jerk .
Why was he lying here thinking about her on a Sunday morning? Did she come
around to help him over the rough days and weeks and months he'd had after Kara
left him? No. Oh, they'd had lunch together a couple of times and she'd tried
to explain Kara's refusal to return his calls or letters, but in general she'd
avoided him, going about her business without worrying too much about Rob
Harris. So why did he feel he should be at her funeral ten years later?
Because
you're a cop and she died in your city.
Bull. It wasn't his city. He didn't
run it. And he hadn't dressed her up like a hooker and sent her trolling
through the Oak Bar.
Still, Kelly had been a good kid.
She had died a scarlet woman, but Rob would always remember her as the sweet
young thing of ten years ago. He smiled. Kara and Kelly Wade, the two beautiful
hicks looking like they'd just stepped out of a Doublemint ad. He remembered
his first glimpse of her that night at McSorley's, and how the Wade twins, with
their shapely, well-turned little bodies, pale blonde hair, blue eyes, scrubbed
faces, and dazzling smiles had won over that all-male hangout before they'd
departed.
You couldn't not like them. They even had a little routine: "I'm Kara, the
Kelly Girl."
"And I'm Kelly, Kara's
sister." Corny and ridiculous from anyone else, but it had blown Rob away.
And although it was almost
impossible to tell them apart except for their make up—Kelly always wore more—Rob
found himself immediately drawn to Kara. Something about Kara…
Kara.
She'd turned out to be nothing but
trouble for him. Why was he thinking about Kara when there was a shapely,
passionate woman curled up against him in his bed?
Maybe because when he and Kara had
been good together, it was magic. There had never been anything else quite like
it for him, before or since.
But why torture himself about it?
For all the passion and intimacy and ecstasy they'd shared, there had been
large counterbalancing doses of anger and shouting and pain. And when she
finally called it quits, she really called it quits—completely severing herself from him, from the city, and
everyone she had known here. No calls, no letters not a word. Kelly had assured
him that Kara was alive and well in Elderun but that she most definitely did
not want to see him any more. He hadn't believed that. He'd traveled out
through Amish country, groping through the area around a place called Bird In
Hand until he'd finally found the Wade family farm and pounded on the door. Her
mother had let him in but Kara had refused to come downstairs. He had
stubbornly waited for hours in the warm but pitying presence of Mrs. Wade, but
Kara wouldn't even show her face.
That was when it finally got through
his thick Irish skull that she really and truly wanted no part of him.
That had hurt him like never before.
As if the heart had been ripped out of him, leaving him with an empty hole
where it had been.
Rob stretched. But that was all in
the past now. Time heals all wounds. Or so they said.
Kara certainly hadn't needed much
time to heal. She'd bounced back and married Mr. Right. He might be dead now,
but at least she'd found him.
When's
my turn ? he thought. When would he find Mrs .
Right, if there was such a person? Or had he already found her and let her slip
away? Or was the job going to turn out to be Mrs. Right, like it had for so
many cops he knew?
He wondered how many chances you
got.
He still loved the job, but it
wasn't quite the same anymore. It had been getting to him
Why was he lying here thinking about her on a Sunday morning? Did she come
around to help him over the rough days and weeks and months he'd had after Kara
left him? No. Oh, they'd had lunch together a couple of times and she'd tried
to explain Kara's refusal to return his calls or letters, but in general she'd
avoided him, going about her business without worrying too much about Rob
Harris. So why did he feel he should be at her funeral ten years later?
Because
you're a cop and she died in your city.
Bull. It wasn't his city. He didn't
run it. And he hadn't dressed her up like a hooker and sent her trolling
through the Oak Bar.
Still, Kelly had been a good kid.
She had died a scarlet woman, but Rob would always remember her as the sweet
young thing of ten years ago. He smiled. Kara and Kelly Wade, the two beautiful
hicks looking like they'd just stepped out of a Doublemint ad. He remembered
his first glimpse of her that night at McSorley's, and how the Wade twins, with
their shapely, well-turned little bodies, pale blonde hair, blue eyes, scrubbed
faces, and dazzling smiles had won over that all-male hangout before they'd
departed.
You couldn't not like them. They even had a little routine: "I'm Kara, the
Kelly Girl."
"And I'm Kelly, Kara's
sister." Corny and ridiculous from anyone else, but it had blown Rob away.
And although it was almost
impossible to tell them apart except for their make up—Kelly always wore more—Rob
found himself immediately drawn to Kara. Something about Kara…
Kara.
She'd turned out to be nothing but
trouble for him. Why was he thinking about Kara when there was a shapely,
passionate woman curled up against him in his bed?
Maybe because when he and Kara had
been good together, it was magic. There had never been anything else quite like
it for him, before or since.
But why torture himself about it?
For all the passion and intimacy and ecstasy they'd shared, there had been
large counterbalancing doses of anger and shouting and pain. And when she
finally called it quits, she really called it quits—completely severing herself from him, from the city, and
everyone she had known here. No calls, no letters not a word. Kelly had assured
him that Kara was alive and well in Elderun but that she most definitely did
not want to see him any more. He hadn't believed that. He'd traveled out
through Amish country, groping through the area around a place called Bird In
Hand until he'd finally found the Wade family farm and pounded on the door. Her
mother had let him in but Kara had refused to come downstairs. He had
stubbornly waited for hours in the warm but pitying presence of Mrs. Wade, but
Kara wouldn't even show her face.
That was when it finally got through
his thick Irish skull that she really and truly wanted no part of him.
That had hurt him like never before.
As if the heart had been ripped out of him, leaving him with an empty hole
where it had been.
Rob stretched. But that was all in
the past now. Time heals all wounds. Or so they said.
Kara certainly hadn't needed much
time to heal. She'd bounced back and married Mr. Right. He might be dead now,
but at least she'd found him.
When's
my turn ? he thought. When would he find Mrs .
Right, if there was such a person? Or had he already found her and let her slip
away? Or was the job going to turn out to be Mrs. Right, like it had for so
many cops he knew?
He wondered how many chances you
got.
He still loved the job, but it
wasn't quite the same anymore. It had been getting to him
Similar Books
