Jay didn’t get to go home the following morning, or the day after that. In fact it was the third day following the horrific incident at the hotel before the investigation was at a point where the witnesses were free to leave. The extra time spent there didn’t jar on her the way it had previously because now she knew there was no Samuel Logan lurking in the wings. As he had passed, so had her fear. In fact it had fled before that, the moment she’d fought the monster to save her father’s life. Jay didn’t feel Nicole’s sense of satisfaction at seeing Samuel gunned down, but had to admit she was glad he was gone. She understood now that part of Nicole’s relief was due to the fact that she hadn’t succumbed to temptation and murdered the man. After they’d wept together and the old Nic was back, the two young women had laughed themselves giddy.
‘Do you still want to live dangerously?’ Nicole had asked.
‘No, thanks, I’ve had quite enough of the wild life.’
‘So we won’t be taking that two-centre holiday we were planning in Iraq and Afghanistan?’
They’d roared with laughter then, tears streaming down their faces and they’d made so much noise rolling about on their beds that her dad had knocked on their hotel-room door to check on them. It was like they were kids again, and it was a wonderful feeling.
The sight of her dad’s face had sobered Jay somewhat. Where Samuel had struck him with the gun his cheek was swollen and a dark bruise the colour of liver had spread all the way down to his jaw. Otherwise he was OK and Jay had hugged him until he was laughing with them. When her mum arrived, along with Nicole’s parents, the other guests in the hotel must have thought they’d booked into a lunatic asylum.
Jay wasn’t laughing now, though. In truth she was hard put to hold back the tears as she went to say goodbye to Joe Hunter. She owed that man more than just her thanks, but she knew that was all he’d take. Maybe in another life things could have worked out differently. No, she then thought. She’d had enough of alternate worlds. Oz — and all other fantasy worlds — were banished from her mind from now on.
Joe had spent more time at the police station than she had. Some of his time there had been as a prisoner, but apparently he’d known better service than many others in his position. He had saved the lives of more than one person, and the two investigators in charge were indebted to him for saving their lives too. Detective Chambers had been spared when his anti-ballistic vest had taken Samuel’s bullet, but without Joe Hunter’s selfless act — his civic duty — in taking out the gunman, who knew what might have happened? All charges against him had finally been dropped.
Leaving the police station, he hadn’t returned to the same hotel as the rest of them, but to the less salubrious surroundings of a motel at the western end of town. Her dad had offered to extend his hospitality to five stars but Hunter had graciously refused. He was a private man, she guessed, who needed time to himself, the only way he could heal. She remembered their discussion the night before Samuel’s attack and how she’d thought to change him. There was no changing a man so set in his ways, she understood that now. It would be wrong to try. Hunter had his demons, his ghosts that followed him, but that was what defined him as a person and a good man.
She had walked the length of Central Avenue, past the landmark Wigwam Village, a motel where guests stay in rooms designed to resemble Native American tents. She didn’t give it much of her attention; she was too involved with ordering her thoughts as she made the journey, but now that she approached Hunter’s motel she wasn’t sure what she should say. She paused outside, studying the stucco walls that were grimy with exhaust fumes from the highway, trying to determine which of the rooms belonged to Hunter. The sun was behind her and reflecting from the windows so she’d no hope of seeing him. He could be inside now, watching her approach.
Entering the foyer, she was surprised to find it was neater than she’d expected. The air conditioning was on high and the air pleasantly chilled after her walk in the sun. The walls were whitewashed with garlands of flowers painted at the ceiling line. Soft seating upholstered in Native American blanket designs dominated the alcoves each side of a polished counter that glowed warmly under overhead spotlights. Jay preferred the atmosphere here to that of the stuffy, soulless place where she was staying. The motel was an ideal fit for Joe Hunter, she thought: the rugged exterior belied the caring heart that beat within. It was a better analogy than the wolf she’d thought of when they’d first met.
A young woman popped her head out of an office behind the counter, a beaming smile on her face. She was dark-skinned, and her teeth flashed in greeting, accentuating the highlights in her raven hair.
Jay smiled back but shook her head at the woman’s offer of assistance and pointed a finger towards the room she’d noticed to her left. She should have known where to find Hunter. He had a taste for coffee and she could smell the beans roasting from here. She walked into the small dining area and took the seat opposite him. He was nursing a large cup of coffee so black she thought of the dark side of the moon.
‘How do you ever sleep?’ she asked.
‘Would you like one?’
‘I’m good,’ she said.
‘Are you?’
She missed a beat, but then she nodded slowly. ‘Yes. I think I am.’
He lifted the mug, watching her over the rim as he took a long gulp. His irises reflected the dark liquid and the usual blue flashed chocolate-brown. As he placed the mug down she noted that it took a moment for the colour to recede, but maybe that was just her imagination. She suddenly became conscious that she’d been staring a tad too long and lowered her face in embarrassment. She could feel a flush creeping into her cheeks.
‘You look beautiful this morning,’ Hunter said.
Whoa! She placed her elbows on the table and her palms over her cheeks, then looked up at him from under her lashes. ‘I bet you say that to all the girls,’ she said, trying to sound funny.
‘Only the beautiful ones.’
She laughed in self-deprecation, but could swear that her ears were glowing furnace-hot by now. Hunter reached across and took her right hand in his. He held it across the table top. ‘I’m sorry, Jay. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’
‘I’m not embarrassed.’
His eyebrows rose and fell.
‘OK. I am. Just a little. But there’s nothing for you to be sorry for. Joe… I, uh…’
‘There’s no need.’
‘No need?’
‘To thank me.’
‘Oh, God! How wrong can you be?’
Hunter released her hand, took up his coffee again.
‘The pleasure was all mine,’ he said.
‘Nothing that happened could be defined as pleasurable,’ she said.
‘Not even making a lifelong friend?’
OK, she had to acquiesce. There was that.
He stood up and she mirrored the movement.
‘I mean it, Jay. If you ever need me, all you have to do is call.’
She moved round to stand beside him, one hand trailing on the table. She peered up at him. All the heat had gone out of her features now. Her shyness with him, like her fear, was a thing of the past. She went up on tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips, slow in drawing her mouth away, and as she did so, whispered, ‘And if you ever need me, just call.’