KAREN
N EW Y ORK T IMES
B ESTSELLING A UTHOR
KINGSBURY
REMEMBER
TUESDAY
MORNING
Previously published as Every Now & Then
To Donald, my Prince Charming How I rejoice to see you coaching again, sharing your gift of teaching and your uncanny basketball ability with another generation of kids and best yet, now our boys are part of the mix. Isnt this what we always dreamed of, my love? I love sitting back this time and letting you and God figure it out. Ill always be here cheering for you and the team from the bleachers. But Gods taught me a thing or two about being a coachs wife. Hes so good that way. Its fitting that you would find varsity coaching again now after twenty years of marriage. Hard to believe that as you read this, our twentieth anniversary has come and gone. I look at you and I still see the blond, blue-eyed guy who would ride his bike to my house and read the Bible with me before a movie date. You stuck with me back then and you stand by me now when I need you more than ever. I love you, my husband, my best friend, my Prince Charming. Stay with me, by my side, and lets watch our children take wing, savoring every memory and each day gone by. Always and always The ride is breathtakingly beautiful, my love. I pray it lasts far into our twilight years. Until then, Ill enjoy not always knowing where I end and you begin. I love you always and forever. To Kelsey, my precious daughter You are nineteen now, a young woman, and my heart soars with joy when I see all that you are, all youve become. This year is a precious one for us because youre still home, attending junior college and spending nearly every day in the dance studio. When youre not dancing, youre helping out with the business and ministry of Life-Changing Fiction so we have many precious hours together. I know this time is short and wont last, but Im enjoying it so much you, no longer the high school girl, a young woman and in every way my daughter, my friend. That part will always stay, but you, my sweet girl, will go where your dreams lead, soaring through the future doors God opens. Honey, you grow more beautiful inside and out every day. And always I treasure the way you talk to me, telling me your hopes and dreams and everything in between. I can almost sense the plans God has for you, the very good plans. I pray you keep holding on to His hand as He walks you toward them. I love you, sweetheart. To Tyler, my lasting song I can hardly wait to see what this school year will bring for you, my precious son. Last year you were one of Josephs brothers, and you were Troy Bolton, and Captain Hook becoming a stronger singer and stage actor with every role. This year youll be at a new high school, where I believe God will continue to shape you as the leader He wants you to be. Your straight As last year were a sign of things to come, and I couldnt be prouder, Ty. I know it was hard watching Kelsey graduate, knowing that your time with your best friend is running short. But youll be fine, and no matter where God leads you in the future, the deep and lasting relationships youve begun here in your childhood will remain. Thank you for the hours of music and song. As you seize hold of your sophomore year, I am mindful that the time is rushing past, and I make a point to stop and listen a little longer when I hear you singing. Im proud of you, Ty, of the young man youre becoming. Im proud of your talent and your compassion for people and your place in our family. However your dreams unfold, Ill be in the front row to watch them happen. Hold on to Jesus, Ty. I love you. To Sean, my happy sunshine Today you came home from school, eyes sparkling, and showed me your science notebook all your meticulous neat sentences and careful drawings of red and white blood cells and various bones and bacteria. I was marveling over every page, remarking at the time youd taken and the quality of your work, and together we laughed over the fact that neither of us really cares too much for science but that it still matters that we do our best. You smiled that easy smile of yours and said, Wait till you see Joshs his blows mine away. You didnt know it at the time, but I was very touched by the tone in your voice. You werent envious or defeated by the fact that Josh in your same grade might have managed to draw even more detailed pictures in his science journal. You were merely happy that youd done your best, earned your A, and could move on from seventh grade science proud of your effort. I love that about you, Sean. You could easily sulk in the shadow of your brother, a kid who excels in so many areas that the two of you share. But you also excel, my dear son. And one of the best ways you shine is in your happy heart, your great love for life and for people, and your constant joy.Sean, you have a way of bringing smiles into our family, even in the most mundane moments, and lately we are smiling very big about your grades. I pray that God will use your positive spirit to always make a difference in the lives around you. Youre a precious gift, Son. Keep smiling and keep seeking Gods best for your life. I love you, honey. To Josh, my tenderhearted perfectionist So, you finally did it! You can beat me at ping-pong now, not that Im surprised. God has given you great talents, Josh, and the ability to work at them with the sort of diligent determination that is rare in young teens. Whether in football or soccer, track or room inspections, you take the time to seek perfection. Along with that, there are bound to be struggles. Times when you need to understand again that the gifts and talents you bear are Gods, not yours, and times when you must learn that perfection isnt possible for us, only for God. Even so, my heart almost bursts with pride over the young man youre becoming. After one of your recent soccer tournaments, one of the parents said something Ill always remember: Josh is such a leader, she told me. Even when he doesnt know other parents are looking, hes always setting an example for his teammates. The best one, of course, is when you remind your teammates to pray before a game. What a legacy you and your brothers are creating here in Washington State. You have an unlimited future ahead of you, Josh, and Ill forever be cheering on the sidelines. Keep God first in your life. I love you always. To EJ, my chosen one Here you are in the early months of seventh grade, and I can barely recognize the student athlete youve become. Those two years of home schooling with Dad continue to reap a harvest a hundred times bigger than what was sown, and we couldnt be prouder of you. But even beyond your grades, we are blessed to have you in our family for so many reasons. You are wonderful with our pets always the first to feed them and pet them and look out for them and you are a willing worker when it comes to chores. Besides all that, you make us laugh oftentimes right out loud. Ive always believed that getting through lifes little difficulties and challenges requires a lot of laughter and I thank you for bringing that to our home. Youre a wonderful boy, Son, a child with such potential. Clearly, thats what you displayed the other day when you came out of nowhere in your soccer qualifiers and scored three goals. Im amazed because youre so talented in so many ways, but all of them pale in comparison to your desire to truly live for the Lord. Im so excited about the future, EJ, because God has great plans for you, and we want to be the first to congratulate you as you work to discover those. Thanks for your giving heart, EJ. I love you so. To Austin, my miracle boy I smile when I picture you hitting not one home run, but three last baseball season all of them for Papa and I feel my heart swell with joy as I think of what happened after your second home run, when you had rounded the bases one at a time and accepted congratulations at home plate from your entire team. You headed into the dugout, and a couple of your teammates tugged on your arm. Tell us, Austin how do you do it? How do you hit a home run like that? Thats when you smiled and shrugged your shoulders. Easy. I asked God for the strength to hit the ball better than I could without Him. Papa must be loving every minute of this, Aus. Im sure of it. What Im not sure of is whether missing him will ever go away. I can only tell you that our quiet times together are what I love most too. Those, and our times of playing give-and-go out on the basketball court. Youre my youngest, my last, Austin. Im holding on to every moment, for sure. Thanks for giving me so many wonderful reasons to treasure today. I thank God for you, for the miracle of your life. I love you, Austin.And to God Almighty, the Author of Life, who has for now blessed me with these. Contents by Karen Kingsbury A special thanks to the Northern Cross Foundation and the Spica family who won Forever in Fiction at the Grand Rapids annual Making it Home Auction. The Spica family chose to honor their friend Dave Jacobs, age 58, by naming him Forever in Fiction. Dave is a pillar in his community, a man with many friends and much integrity and faith. He spent his younger years in social work, but then became involved in the Home Repair Services business a venture devoted to helping the less fortunate in various Michigan neighborhoods.Dave has won many awards for his philanthropic efforts, but remains deeply humble and committed to making life better for the people around him. His greatest accomplishments include his marriage to his wife, Lois, and their four children. He loves woodworking and bird-watching, and when he travels to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan with his family, he tries to do a little of both.Daves character in Remember Tuesday Morning is that of the generous developer whose Oak Canyon Estates are the subject of threats by a radical environmental group. I could see Dave working in that role, commanding a team of construction workers and still finding time to be with family and friends, and making a difference in his community.I pray that the Spica family sees their friend Dave deeply honored by their gift and by his placement in Remember Tuesday Morning and that they will always see a bit of Dave when they read his name in the pages of this novel, where he will be Forever in Fiction.For those of you who are not familiar with Forever in Fiction, it is my way of involving you, the readers, in my stories, while raising money for charities. To date Forever in Fiction has raised more than $100,000 at charity auctions across the country. If you are interested in having a Forever in Fiction package donated to your auction, contact my assistant, Tricia Kingsbury, at Kingsburydesk@aol.com. Please write Forever in Fiction in the subject line. Please note that I am only able to donate a limited number of these each year. For that reason, I have set a fairly high minimum bid on this package. That way the maximum funds are raised for charities.Forever in Fiction is a registered trademark owned by Karen Kingsbury. S mog hung over the San Fernando Valley like a collapsed Boy Scout tent, filling in the spaces between the high-rise office buildings and freeway overpasses. The Pacific Ocean hadnt produced a breeze in three weeks, and by two oclock that August afternoon temperatures had long since shot past the century mark.Alex Brady didnt care.He picked up his pace, pounding his Nikes against the shimmering asphalt. Salty sweat dripped down his temples and into the corners of his mouth, but he kept running, filling his lungs with the sweltering, stifling air. Something about the sting in his chest made him feel good, stirred the intensity of his run. The intensity of his existence. If chasing bad guys on the streets of Los Angeles didnt kill him, he wasnt going to keel over on the Pierce College running track. Whatever the weather.Five miles and ten hill sprints every off-day, that was his mandate. And he never made the trip without Bo.They were alone on the track today, no one else crazy enough to push this hard in the suffocating heat. He glanced at the German shepherd keeping pace alongside him. His dog, his partner for every on-duty call. His best friend, his only friend. Atta boy. The dog wasnt even breathing hard. Alex slowed long enough to pat Bos deep brown coat. They both needed a drink. Alexs ribs heaved as he ran to the bleachers and slowed to a stop. He grabbed one of his water bottles from the lowest row and downed half of it. Bo found his bowl a few feet away and lapped like crazy. This was a two-bottle day if ever there was one.Alex slammed the bottle back down on the bench and kicked his run into gear again. His dog was a few seconds behind him, but he caught up easily. Alright, Bo lets get this. Alex could feel the workout now, feel his legs screaming for relief the way they always did when he had a mile left.Bos earnest eyes seemed to say he would stay by his master whatever the pace, whatever the distance. Alex wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and squinted against the glare of the afternoon sun. Without question, Bo was the best police dog in the Los Angeles Sheriffs Department. Every bit as fit as Alex, and with a resum of heroism unequalled among K9 units.Another lap and Alex noticed something on the surface of the track. His running shoes were leaving an imprint. The asphalt was that hot. Good thing Bo was running on the grass. Push through it , he ordered himself. Dad wouldve done this without breaking a sweat. And then, like it did at least once a day, a rush of memories came over him so hard and fast he could almost feel the wind from its wake. His dad, Captain Ben Brady, New York City firefighter. His hero, his best friend. Suddenly it was all real again. The sound of his voice, the feel of his hand firm against Alexs shoulder when he lost the big game his junior year running alongside Alex when he was six and learning to ride a bike or even before that, when he lifted Alex up into the fire truck that very first time. Two more laps, Brady. You can do it . Alex clenched his teeth and pushed himself, but the memories stayed. There was his dad, hovering over his bed that September Tuesday morning, placing his hand against the side of Alexs face. Buddy time to get up. You gotta ace that math test well talk about the other stuff when I get home.The other stuff. Alex blinked and the hillside that surrounded half the track appeared again. The other stuff was Alexs determination to parlay his years as a fire cadet into an immediate position with the FDNY. As a teen, Alex could already see himself in the uniform, rushing into burning buildings, climbing atop blazing rooftops, rescuing families and putting out fires. His dad saw things differently. College would be better. His grades were good, his SAT scores in the top ten percent. Why battle fires in Manhattan when you could work in an office with a view of Central Park? Alex was sure that was the message his dad was going to deliver that night.Only the message never came.The terrorists the terrorists picked that day toAlex found a reserve of energy for the last lap. Come on, Bo. He could feel the heat in his face and neck and arms, but he pushed ahead. Of course he hadnt gone to college, and he hadnt spent another day desiring a job with the FDNY. Hed done the only thing he could do. He moved as far away from New York City as he could and threw himself into earning a sheriffs badge. That way he could consume himself with the one job that mattered after September 11. Get the bad guys.Didnt matter if they were drunk drivers or gang thugs, bank robbers or terrorists plotting the next big attack, Alex wanted them off the street. That desire was all that drove him, the only purpose he felt born to fulfill. Get rid of the evil. He and Bo. So that some other high school senior wouldnt have to sit in his Shakespearean English class and watch his dad murdered on live television.He took the last ten yards at a sprint, his heart bursting from his chest, and then he dropped back to a walk. The smog didnt pass for oxygen, and he couldnt catch his breath. But hed been here before. He knew how to work with the heat and dirty air. He pursed his lips and blew it all out, emptying his lungs, making space for his next breath. Go on, Bo He followed the dog to the water, and by the time he reached the bleachers he was breathing again. Ready for the hills.He downed the rest of the first bottle and paced a few yards in either direction. Bo stayed by his water bowl, but his eyes moved from Alex to the hill at the other end of the stadium. Give me a minute. He grabbed his towel from the bleachers and buried his face in it. The hills were the best part. For a few intense minutes, he could feel what his father had felt, the way he mustve pushed himself up the stairs of the North Tower, looking for victims, seeking the wounded and trapped on one floor after another.He tossed his towel on the bleachers and stretched hard to the right, lengthening his core muscles and bringing relief to his tired body. The left side was next, and when he finished he nodded to the dog. Come on. He jogged to the base of the hill with the German shepherd on the grass at his side. Then, without waiting, he lowered his head and dug into the hillside. The ground was steep, all craggy dirt clods and forgotten weeds, but his footing stayed sure and steady. Move it push harder , he ordered himself. Halfway up the hill the burning began and Alex welcomed it. Again his surroundings faded and Alex could see the stairwell, the way it mustve looked as his father climbed higher and higher. People rushing down the stairs, firefighters rushing up. He would do this as often as he could, every day when he didnt don the uniform, and he would remember everything his father stood for. Everything that drove him and gave him purpose in life.Bo made it to the top of the hill ahead of him, tongue hanging from his mouth halfway to the ground. But even then the dog was ready for the downhill, ready for the next nine trips back up. Faster dont let up. He wiped the back of his hand across his wet forehead and focused on the path back down. At the base of the hill he glanced at his watch. He needed to push through this thing. He still had to grab a shower and run a few errands before dinner at the Michaels house. And he wouldnt miss dinner.The evenings with Sergeant Clay Michaels and his wife, Jamie, were the only social invites Alex received. Most times he didnt really want to go, didnt want someone worrying about him or probing around in his personal life. But he promised himself hed show up every time Clay and Jamie asked. Otherwise, hed become a machine, an unfeeling robot whose sole purpose in life was to round up crooks and lock them away. Alex squinted at the hill and attacked it a second time. Not that he minded being a machine. He sort of liked the idea. But if he lost touch completely with people, he might forget one very important aspect of his jobThe pain of it.A driving force for Alex was the way people were hurt by bad guys, because there was way too much mind-boggling sorrow out there. Deep life-altering sadness like the kind that had ripped into him and his mom on September 11, 2001. If he lost track of the human suffering, he could just go ahead and hang up his gun, because the hurt was why he was here in the first place. So yeah, he would keep his dinner invitation tonight and anytime Clay and his wife made room for him at their table. Because being around them kept alive what was left of his heart. That and times like this, when his workout actually allowed him to think beyond the next few minutes.The workout did something else, too if only for a few hours.It made him forget the girl hed left back in New York City, and all the reasons hed walked away from her. A girl whose indelible fingerprints stayed on his heart and whose contagious laughter and easy smile had a way of catching up to him, no matter how hard and fast he ran.A girl named Holly Brooks. C lay Michaels reached into the pantry of his Calabasas, California, home, pulled out a plastic pitcher, and handed it to his wife, Jamie. Everyone here?Not yet. She took the pitcher and filled it with three scoops of powdered lemonade. Were waiting on Alex. Everyone else is out back. She leaned close and gave him a quick kiss. Time for you to work your magic.He caught her by the waist and eased her close to him. You mean he kissed her again, long enough to take her breath away, like this?She took a step back, starry-eyed, and inhaled sharply. Later. She glanced over her shoulder at the window that separated the kitchen from the backyard. Theyre hungry. She straightened her shirt, spun around to the fridge, and pulled out a tray of raw burgers. This magic.Clay took the tray and grinned at her. Wheres Sierra?In the garage with Wrinkles, she frowned. That cats been sleeping all day.Yeah, well, Clay made a silly face and balanced the tray of burgers on the palm of one hand. With a three-year-old running around, sometimes I think we could all use a nap in the garage.Clays brother Eric opened the slider door and stayed beside him while the burgers cooked. Not far away on the patio, Jamie sat with Erics wife, Laura, across from Joe and Wanda Reynolds. The six of them did this regularly, getting together at one of their homes for a weekend barbecue.Eric was talking about a deal at work, an acquisition of some kind, but Clay was catching only every other word, distracted by Michael Bubl playing in the background and the happy voices of the kids on the swing set across the yard. Three-year-old CJ was running his Hot Wheels car on the slide with Joe and Wandas little boy, Will. The two looked like miniature versions of their fathers one blond and blue-eyed, one black with sparkling brown eyes, the best of buddies. On the nearest swing, Eric and Lauras little red-headed girl, Lacey, was giggling at them.Clay turned his attention to the burgers. Looks like theyre just about ready.Eric peered inside the grill. Ill get the buns.Theyre inside on the counter. Clay surveyed the scene again. The thick smell of burgers mixed with the warm summer sweetness from the gardenias, the ones Jamie planted along the back of the property the week they moved in. Clay breathed in deeply. He wanted to freeze the moment, wrap his arms around it, and never let it go.Times like this, he could almost forget the pressure of his job, the responsibility he wore like a heavy yoke when he headed off to the LA sheriffs Monterey Park headquarters. Tonight he wasnt a sergeant with the Special Enforcement Bureau or one of the most respected men in the department. He wasnt training the next group of SWAT guys or worrying about threats from local environmental terrorist groups a few weeks shy of what could be the areas worst fire season ever.No, tonight he was a married man, longing to stretch out the weekend hours. He was a daddy who didnt mind wearing a jester hat when the kids played dress-up and a friend who had stayed faithful through too many highs and lows to remember. He was a brother and an uncle, a God-fearing family man who prayed daily for the people in his life. Most of all no matter what work threw at him he was a believer.All the things he feared Deputy Alex Brady might never be.He was sliding burgers off the grill and onto the open buns on the tray in Erics hands when he heard someone at the patio door. He turned in time to see Alex walk through the door, his expression marked by an unspoken apology. Traffic on the 101, he shrugged as he set his keys on a table just outside the patio door. He wore a white T-shirt and jeans, his short dark hair streaked with a few blond highlights and styled more like a contemporary pop star than a sheriffs deputy. Alex gave Clay a half-grin. Your famous burgers again, huh, Sarge?Thats why they call me Magic. He kept his tone light. Alex came for dinner once a month or so, and usually they never got past shoptalk. But Clay had a feeling about tonight, that maybe they could find their way to something deeper, like why it was Alex had trouble connecting with any other human being. Did you bring Bo?Hes out front. Tied him up on the porch.Well save him a burger.The men headed to the table and Clay called the kids. Eric and Lauras son Josh came in through the side gate, a basketball tucked beneath his arm, his face damp with sweat. He was fifteen now and almost as tall as Eric. Behind him were Joe and Wandas older two both in middle school and fascinated with basketball.Theyre good. Josh waved his thumb at the Reynolds kids. I barely beat em.Yeah right. The oldest of the Reynolds kids rolled his eyes. He used his tank top to wipe his forehead. He schooled us again. The three older kids took their plates and headed out front once more.As the younger kids finished eating, they ran to the swings, leaving the seven adults sitting around Clay and Jamies patio table. Joe took a long drink of his lemonade and sat back in his chair. He shaded his eyes and watched CJ, Will, and Lacey. The miracle babies are growing up.Clay smiled at the term. Miracle babies . Thats what the couples had called their youngest children ever since the three of them arrived all within a year of each other. Lacey was the baby Eric and Laura never wouldve had if not for a fateful business trip on September 11, 2001. If Eric hadnt spent three months in New York City recovering from his injuries and learning how to be the father and family man he had never been, their marriage wouldnt have survived.Joe and Wandas marriage had been over as well, their love for each other lost in the aftermath of heartache when their firstborn son was hit and killed by a car. Years passed with the two of them living separate lives on opposite coasts, but then Joe dragged Clay to New York City for police training and something more a chance to reunite with Wanda.Joe was laughing now, telling a story about little Will. Clay studied his friend. There were no signs of the near-fatal gunshot wound hed gotten while on that New York trip. All that mattered was hed come back with Wanda ready to start over again. Their son Will was proof that God could bless even the most broken people with a second chance.And, of course, his and Jamies own little CJ. It was still hard to believe that on that same New York trip, Clay had connected with Jamie Jamie Bryan, the very woman who had nursed Clays brother, Eric, back to health in the months after 9/11. Love for them had been sure and fast beauty borne of ashes. By then Clay had all but given up on marrying and having a family, and Jamie never for a moment thought that someday her daughter, Sierra, would have a sibling.But here they were, all of them embracing life and raising their miracle babies.Joe nodded toward the kids. Laceys definitely in charge. He was holding Wandas hand, the two of them relaxed and happy together. Little Will had his mothers milk chocolate skin, and his fathers sense of humor. The boy loved nothing more than to tease the lone girl who rounded out their trio.Ill tell you what, Wanda made a jaunty snap of her fingers, her eyes still on Lacey, that little girls going to run a corporation someday.Eric and Laura both laughed, and Eric anchored his elbows on the table. Shed probably be good at it.You ever think about it? Laura wore sunglasses, but now she took them off, her eyes thoughtful. She looked at the others around the table. None of them would be here if it werent for 9/11.We wouldnt be here, either. Not together. Joe brought Wandas hand to his lips and kissed it. He held her gaze for a long moment, then looked back at Laura. Yeah, we think about it. Every now and then, anyway.At the mention of the terrorist attacks, Clay shot a quick glance at Alex. Hed been quiet until now, mostly eating his way through three burgers and listening to the conversation about the children. But with the talk of September 11, a shadow fell across his expression, and his eyes grew dark. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, pushed back from the table, and turned to Clay. Thanks for dinner. He smiled, but it didnt move past his lips. Great as always.Wait a minute, young man. Wanda was on her feet, her hands on her hips, laughter in her voice. You see those apple pies in there? I worked my tail off making those, and far as I can tell your skinny backside could use one all for yourself so sit back down.Yes, maam. Alex chuckled, but his body language was stiff. Gotta check on Bo. Hes tied up out front.Okay, then. Wanda waggled her finger at him. You come right back, and bring that appetite of yours.Clay waited until Alex had walked back into the house and shut the patio door behind him. Then he crossed his arms and caught Joes eyes. Im worried about him, he told his friend.A heaviness settled over the table, and Joe released a weighty sigh. Anytime 9/11 comes up, its the same way. He squinted in the direction where Alex had gone back into the house. Kids eighteen again, hearing the news for the first time.Lauras shoulders sank forward and she looked at Eric, and then the others. Im sorry. I shouldnt have said anything. I forget hes still struggling.The mans not struggling . Hes consumed. Joe shook his head. Completely consumed.He doesnt have family in the area, does he? Eric looped his arm around Lauras shoulders. No girlfriend?No family. And he hasnt talked about a girl. Clay uncrossed his arms and reached for Jamies hand. She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. He lost his dad when the towers came down. Finished high school, took off for the West Coast and left his mom back in New York City. She remarried some time later. Alex rarely talks to her, from what little Ive gathered. He looked back at the patio door. He didnt want Alex to find them talking about him. There mightve been a girl back then. Dont know where she is now or what happened to her, but there doesnt seem to be anyone now.Thats why we include him in our barbecues. Jamies eyes held a knowing look, an understanding that came from having walked the same path Alex was still walking. Otherwise hes alone.If anyone can feel for the guy, its us. The teasing was gone from Wandas voice. A decade ago, after she and Joe divorced, Wanda moved to Queens and married a firefighter. He was killed in the Twin Towers, same as Jamies first husband, Jake, and Alexs father, Ben. Yes, this was a group Alex could relate to, but there was one big difference between Alex and these couples.Alex hadnt moved on, not by a long shot. Because of that, the people around the patio table had never shared with Alex their personal connections to 9/11. It was enough that their common ground instilled a deep compassion from the group, without getting into the details of the past. Someday, Clay hoped to dig a little deeper with the young deputy, but based on Alexs quick exit to check on his dog, that conversation probably wouldnt happen tonight.They heard the slider again, and Alex walked out carrying a pie in each hand. He slid the door shut with the toe of his work boot and brought the pies to the table. Alright, Wanda, the shadows were gone, but the walls around his heart remained. The flatness in his eyes was proof. Lets check out these pies of yours.She waved her hands at him and flopped back in her seat. You do the honors, and make mine the smallest. Last thing I needs a big ol slice of pie after that dinner!The children scrambled to the table for a taste of the dessert, and after a little while the older kids stopped their game long enough to finish off what was left. Jamie made coffee, and the women went inside to check out some vacation spot Laura wanted to show them online. Only the men remained around the table, drinking their coffee and watching the little ones.Congratulations on that award you got. Joe raised his brow at Alex. You earned it.Thanks. Alex shifted in his seat. Anyone couldve won it.Clay knew that wasnt true. The award went to the K9 team with the most arrests, and the fact was, no other team was close. Your humility is admirable, Brady, but its a fact. You and Bo are the best, Clay gave a firm nod. The departments lucky to have you.Yeah, well Alex gripped the arms of his chair and turned to Clay. He seemed anxious to change the subject. So what do you hear about the REA?Clay exchanged a quick look with Joe. The SWAT division was hearing a lot about the group and the threat they posed to Los Angeles this year. Radical Environmental Activists, they called themselves. REA. Clay was newly in charge of the departments monitoring of the group, and Alex and Bo were one of the K9 teams specially trained to deal with the groups activity. Even so, Clay was careful how much he said. Were watching them.Theyre trouble. Alexs answer was sharp. We need to be proactive next time.There never shoulda been a first time. Joe leaned on one forearm. We had em on our radar back when they were just thinking up bad stuff. He flexed the muscles in his jaw. Im with you, man. We need to take em out.Theyre smart. Clay, too, wanted to round up the members and throw them in prison, but that wasnt possible. Not yet. Theyre elusive and cunning. New members come alongside them all the time like the REA is more of a mind-set than an actual group.Oh, theyre an actual group. Alexs eyes hardened. Eight of them, at least. He hesitated. I found out where they meet.Clay stared at the young deputy across from him. This was why he didnt want to say too much. Alex was driven to get the REA more than any other criminal group on the streets. He was a good deputy, worthy of the honors hed received. But if he became obsessed, Clay would have no choice but to recommend Alex be taken off the case. He raised an eyebrow at the young deputy. Weve talked about this.Im doing it by the book, Sarge. He didnt blink. Im just saying I have the information. When SWATs ready, lets take this thing. The evidence is there. He took a swig of his coffee. Ive heard it from a lot of places.They needed more than conversational evidence, and Alex knew it. Clay gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to continue with the topic. Of course the Special Enforcement Bureau knew about the REA their headquarters and the scope of what they planned to do. But they didnt have a thread of physical evidence linking the group to previous acts of ecoterrorism. K9 deputies werent intended to be part of the investigation not until the time came for a search and arrest. Whether he was on the case or not, Alex had to be careful about spending his free time conducting quasi-investigations. He allowed the intensity to ease from his voice. Were on it, Brady. Were watching.Alex was quiet, his eyes locked on Clays. Theyre gonna hit Pasadena, the hills overlooking the city, right? Thats the talk?Clays heart skipped a beat, but he worked hard to keep his expression from giving anything away. Alex Brady was good. He might not have been in on every meeting, but he knew the departments deepest concerns. Almost as if he was getting information from the inside. Clay finished his coffee, relishing the few grounds at the bottom of the cup. With the publicity they got last fire season, its a sure bet there will be fires this year. The REA has fans even they dont know about.I think SWATs wrong. I dont think itll be Pasadena, Sarge. He lowered his voice and shifted his look to Joe. Theyve got their eyes on Malibu, on that new development off Las Virgenes and Lost Hills Oak Canyon Estates. The gated custom homes up there.Even with temperatures in the nineties, a chill worked its way down Clays spine. In meetings, the entire SWAT division had considered just about every possibility for the sites where fires might be set by the radical members of REA. The Oak Canyon Estates were certainly mentioned, but no one took the idea seriously. The gates would keep out arsonists after hours, and even a group as crazy as the REA wouldnt set fire to custom homes while people were around.Not possible. Clay heard his work tone kick in, the voice he used when he was training SWAT guys. Wherever youre getting your information, forget about it, Brady. Let us follow the leads. When its time to make arrests, youll be there. Clay reached over and gave Alex a hearty pat on his shoulder. This is your day off, man. Relax.Alex nodded, slowly, thoughtfully. Okay. He stood and looked first at Joe, then at Clay. I need to go. Got to get Bo home. He mustered a stale smile as he turned and headed for the door. Thanks for tonight.Frustration poked at Clay. This was hardly the breakthrough hed asked God for. Be right back, he muttered to Joe. Then he stood and followed Alex to the patio door. Wait.Alex turned around, his smile gone. Who am I supposed to tell, huh? His voice was intense, but he kept it low so the conversation stayed between them alone. Im sure about this, Clay. Dead sure.Theres an order to things in the department, Brady. Clay was more sorry than angry. Let us take the lead. Were on it; I promise you.Alex studied him a moment longer. What if youre too late? Have you thought about that? He gestured toward the hills. Every bit of that canyon is filled with homes. People could die this time. A lot of people.Again Clay didnt want to say too much. He could hardly tell the young deputy that the scenario hed just hit on was the exact one the department brass were concerned about. Instead, he took hold of Alexs upper arm and held it, the way a father might hold onto his son. We know that. Trust us on this.Alex didnt try to pull away. He mustve heard in Clays voice that the conversation was over, and he looked down at a spot on the grass.Listen, Alex, whats eating you? The anniversary? Is that it?No. Alex lifted his eyes, and they flashed with a sudden intensity. September 11 is just another day. Its the next anniversary, man. He jabbed himself a few times in the chest. Thats whats eating me.Okay. Clay released his hold on the deputy. Im here, Brady. If you need to talk, Im here.Alex took a few seconds for his anger to dissipate, and then he managed the briefest smile, just enough to convey that his determination wasnt directed at Clay, but at the bad guys. He left and Clay watched him head through the house, stopping just long enough to thank Jamie and tell the other women good-bye. A few minutes later he heard Alexs truck start up out front, and the slight squeal of tires as Alex pulled away.By then Joe had joined him beneath the covered patio. The two faced the children, who were chasing each other through the grass in small circles, giggling and falling down every few steps. You know what it is, dont you?Sure. Clay felt the full weight of his defeat that night. Hed hoped to invite Alex to church, talk to him about getting involved in the singles ministry. But the guy was a world away from that sort of invitation. Kids full of pain.Thats only part of it. Joe crossed his arms tightly in front of him. For Alex Brady, its still September 11. He gave a strong shake of his head. Hes still stuck on that dreaded Tuesday morning.Long after theyd moved the children into the house and slipped in a Jana Alayra music video, and even after the couples gathered around the nearby card table for a game of Apples to Apples, Clay couldnt shake what Joe had said, how perfectly hed nailed the trouble with Alex Brady. The deputy had never moved on, never found his way to a life without his father. Sure, he was three thousand miles away from New York City, but not in his heart. And Clay had the feeling that on every call the kid felt the impact again, the Twin Towers crashing down, the bad guys winning bigger than ever before.As the night wore on, for the first time Clay began to understand Alexs near obsession with the REA. In some ways the group wasnt that different from the people who had killed Alexs father. It was a sobering thought, because the REA was really nothing more than a group of terrorists whose weapon was fire. The same weapon used by al Qaeda. A weapon that could create utter chaos and destroy massive structures in a matter of minutes, one that actually could do the one thing Alex feared might happen:Take innocent lives in the process. T he round of cards was finished for a few minutes, and Jamie walked back to the kitchen to make another pot of coffee. Around the table everyone was still laughing about how no one should play the game with Clay and Joe at the same table. The two could read each other without words or table talk.Wanda was talking louder than the others. I mean, please! We girls never have a chance at winning with you two around.Jamie smiled to herself. She loved Wandas spirit and Lauras quiet assurance. The three of them balanced each other, but even with all the excitement over the game, Jamie hadnt been able to stop thinking of one very memorable moment from earlier in the night. The look in Alexs eyes when the subject of 9/11 came up.She moved to the fridge, took out the bag of fresh ground coffee, and measured the right amount into a new filter. Alexs eyes had looked both haunted and familiar, the same look shed seen hundreds of times before in the eyes of visitors at St. Pauls Chapel the little church that stood on the border of Ground Zero, the church where Jamie had volunteered her time for three years after her first husband Jake died in the terrorist attacks.The stream of sorrow and heartache never ended at St. Pauls, and it wouldve never ended for Jamie if Clay hadnt walked into her life. She was better now, better here in Southern California, far from New York City with its scarred skyline.Even still, the details were always close enough to touch. It was that way for anyone whose life had been changed by September 11. The tragedy created a bond that would remain among the survivors as long as they lived. So maybe God had brought Alex Brady into her life for a specific reason. She had moved on from St. Pauls Chapel, but she would always have a heart for people hurt by 9/11. If she could talk to Alex, perhaps find a minute alone with him, he might open up about his feelings.The condition of Alexs heart reminded Jamie of something that happened to CJ last week. Their young son had run in from outdoors, whimpering about a pain in his toe. Jamie took off the childs shoe and sock, and there on the bottom of his big toe was a red area, hot and infected. At the center, with skin grown over the top, was a splinter that was causing all the trouble. Jamie performed minor surgery on CJ that afternoon and removed the offending piece of wood. After a day, CJs toe was healed and whole again.It was that way with matters of the heart. Alex would find no healing, no ability to move on and live again or love again until he dealt with the splinter of hurt and anger that clearly festered inside him. Maybe thats where she could help. Show me how, God Give me an opportunity and Ill talk to him. No distinct answer resounded in her heart, but Jamie felt an assurance. Somehow, in the coming season, she had a strong feeling God would indeed use her in the life of Alex Brady. Now it was up to Him to show her how that would happen.She removed the old coffee filter, tossed it in the trash, and refilled the machine with fresh water. Even after meeting for dinner a dozen times, Alex didnt know the details about Jamies first husband, Jake. He didnt know about Wandas FDNY husband, either. Clay hadnt thought the information was necessary, at least not in the early attempts at friendship with the young man. But now it had been nearly a year since the first time Clay invited Alex over for dinner.Jamie flipped the switch, and the coffeemaker began gurgling and spewing. She turned around just as her brother-in-law entered the kitchen, his coffee mug in his hands. For the smallest fraction of a second, she caught herself thinking Eric was Jake. The resemblance was still so strong, so uncanny. She had long since come to accept the fact that she would have that fleeting thought at times the same way that once in a while Sierra would make a particular play on the soccer field or come home with an A on an essay and Jamie would catch herself making a mental note to tell Jake.You look a world away. Eric came closer and leaned against the kitchen island counter, opposite her.Thinking about Alex.Hmm. He crossed one ankle over the other. Me too. He hasnt dealt with it.Not at all. Jamie pushed herself up onto the counter next to the coffeemaker. Thats why hes a deputy. Trying to make sure no one else suffers the kind of loss hes gone through.The jobs bigger than he is. Erics voice was marked by a familiar concern. He needs to find a life outside work. The jobll destroy him otherwise. Eric set his cup down. I know what youre thinking.What? Youre a mind reader now? Her voice was lighter than before, proof that she wouldnt linger in the past.He could still look deep into her heart, and he did so now. You think you can help him. The way you helped all those people at St. Pauls.From the other room, the group was laughing again, but Jamie was quiet, letting the possibility drift in the air around them.Be careful. He angled his face, his eyes shining with a tenderness that underlined the connection they shared. God moved you on from St. Pauls. Maybe Alex is supposed to be Clays project. Clay and Joes.Why? She didnt feel defensive, but his thoughts surprised her. Why not me?Because it can consume you, Jamie. The way it did before. He paused. You and Clay, you have something very special. You deserve to live outside the shadow of the Twin Towers.The coffee finished percolating. Jamie slid her feet back down to the floor, took Erics mug, refilled it, and handed it back to him. As she did, she met Erics eyes and held them. Ill never be completely out of that shadow. Her smile felt sad and small. You should know that.Empathy flooded his face. I do. He touched the side of her arm. Just be careful. Dont risk what you have.His concern was genuine, and the warning hit its mark deep within her. Thanks. Ill watch myself. Im just not sure someone like Clay or Joe can reach him, someone who doesnt share that loss.Eric took his coffee and moved back toward the living room. Youll do the right thing, Jamie. He left her with one last smile. You always do.Jamie returned his smile, then grabbed hold of the fresh coffee. She carried it out to the others, refilled the cups of her husband and friends, and found her way back into another round of cards. But through the remainder of the night, as the game ended and the couples gathered their kids and said their good-byes, even later as she washed her face at her bathroom sink, she couldnt shake the look in Alexs eyes, or the warning from Eric.Would it really hurt to give the young deputy a chance to open up about his loss? Alex had no family in the area from what Clay knew, and even though Jamie was too young to be Alexs mother, she could take on the role for a short season, right? Or was Erics concern valid, that she might become consumed once more with righting the wrongs meted out on 9/11?Jamie pressed the warm washcloth to her face, wiping away the remains of her light makeup. The thoughts in her head all started because of the look in Alexs eyes A look of deep loss and pain mixed with a determination to find justice. Whatever the cost. The same look shed seen in the eyes of the people who came through the doors at St. Pauls.Thats where she could help a guy like Alex. Because Jamie knew that sometimes the cost was too high, that a person could lose themselves in the quest to live for someone else, to devote ones days to redeeming the loss of someone you loved more than life. And thats what Alex was trying to do, at least it seemed that way. Live his life as a memorial to his father. Along the way, he was losing himself, and Jamie could certainly relate to that. Now if only God would show her the right time and place to share that truth with Alex.Before his heart was so hard he wouldnt hear her anyway. H olly Brooks turned onto the steep gravel road and slipped her transmission into the lowest possible gear, the way she did every day at this hour of the morning. Sales at Oak Creek Canyons newest phase of development werent exactly overwhelming, but with the summer heat letting up and September right around the corner, her office was busier than usual.Brightly colored red and yellow flags waved in the wind as she made her way up the mountain road to the single paved street half a mile up. No matter how many times she made the drive, the view from the summit never got old. Holly parked her Durango and stared at the panorama spread out before her. The view skimmed along the tops of several smaller peaks and then ended with the Pacific Ocean spread out in the distance. I know, Lord the created things are proof Youre really there. She tried to remember what it felt like to believe, to accept the things of God as easily as she drew her next breath. But life was complicated now, and when she tried to remember that sort of faith, she felt empty and flat. As if she no longer knew how to believe. She grabbed her leather bag and a stack of work shed taken home last night and looked once more at the sight before her. The heaviness that resided in her heart swelled. Okay, so if Youre real why cant I feel You anymore? The quiet whisper echoed through her soul and died there. She dismissed the thought and checked her face in the mirror one last time. As she climbed out, the wind grabbed her thick, blonde hair, whipped it across her face, and blew it in a dozen different directions. Wind meant one dreaded thing. She hesitated and checked the horizon for smoke, for any signs of fire. The developers had held a meeting last week expressing their concern about the coming fire season. She might only have lived in LA for a few years, but she was well aware of the Santa Ana winds and the danger faced every fall by Dave Jacobs and anyone with a personal or financial investment in the hillsides of Southern California.Holly pressed her way through the wind to the front door of the middle estate. Her office was set up in the front room of one of the most beautiful models in the new development. The house was enormous more than seven thousand square feet with no luxury spared. She slipped her key in the front door. The developers were here somewhere, overseeing construction on one of the eight spec homes being built up and down the spacious street on either side of the model.It was an honor working for Dave. He was six-foot-two, with a presence that inspired loyalty and made other people want to catch his vision. And his vision was a great one. Never mind the criticism from environmentalists that was bound to come when a person spent his days developing the hillsides of Southern California. Away from his development company, Dave was involved in more charities than Holly could count. Every year he provided the material and labor for the construction of three houses for homeless families in the San Fernando Valley, and without fail he was the recipient of a number of philanthropic awards. With all that, his greatest moments were with his family his wife, Lois, and their four children. With his wealth, he couldve traveled the world. But his favorite vacations were simple and profound trips to Michigans Upper Peninsula where Dave would bird-watch and return to his work full of nature stories. No, his critics especially the environmentalists didnt have a clue who Dave Jacobs really was.Holly set her things down. She would see Dave and his son, Ron, around lunchtime, but until then she would work alone. Something she liked least about her job.She flipped a few buttons on the keypad just outside her office. Immediately, something by Rod Stewart worked its way from speakers hidden discreetly throughout the estate. Holly liked this radio station. It played the oldies her mother listened to, music that reminded her of home back on Staten Island. Holly turned up the music and sang along.Have I told you lately, that I love you Have I told you, theres no one else above you The song reminded Holly of her dad. Long before his heart attack two summers ago, he seemed to know he didnt have long to live. He had called her up one day and told her that whenever he heard this song, he thought of his family. Holly turned her attention to her work. Two years mightve passed since his death, but his memory still moved her to tears. It always would.Just not here at work. She steeled herself against the loneliness and began filing the work shed brought. She was twenty-five and single, heading toward a serious relationship with the developers son, Ron. But nothing about her life was how she pictured it when she was in high school, back when she knew without a doubt that she and Alex would be married and having babies by now, back when nothing couldve torn them apart.Back before 9/11.Holly hurried herself along. She had four appointments today, not counting walk-ins. Each would require a detailed tour, paperwork, and a discussion on financing. On top of that, there were follow-up calls to make and more documents to file. She was checking her calendar when a black Mercedes sedan drove up. Holly hadnt seen the car before, so she could only assume the obvious. Prospective buyers. She glanced at the decorative flags that marked the walkway to the front door. They werent flapping as hard. Good. The wind had died down some.The two men climbed out of the car and headed up the walk, both of them with straight backs and tailored suits, sure signs of their status in the business world. Holly met them at the front door, introduced herself, and welcomed them in. How can I help you?Actually, you can help me . My brothers just sort of along for the ride. The taller of the two pointed an elbow toward the bald man with him. We work together and met for coffee this morning. I decided to show him what Id found up here.Holly tried to place the man. Anyone who had been through the model home or toured the neighborhood had to go through her. When she wasnt giving tours, the gates were shut at the base of the road, and no one could gain access up. Have you been through before?The man chuckled. Not officially. He held out his hand. Im Sam Baker. My wife and I drove by last weekend, but there were six other couples taking up your time. He grinned. I told her Id come check it out today, and if I liked it I could bring her back later.Holly was surprised and slightly uneasy, but she didnt show it. Not once in the past few weeks had she been too busy to give a potential buyer the tour. There mightve been one other couple walking the grounds, or even two, but six? Not lately. Still, she motioned for the men to follow her. Lets take a look at the site map. She led them to a dramatic, glass-covered model of the development. As you can see, only two of the homes in Phase Two are sold. She crossed the room and led them to a second detailed model. The previous phase was larger. Twenty-five homes. She pointed to a cul-de-sac area. Five homes remain for sale in that phase, but none of them have the views of Phase Two. Or the sticker price , but Holly didnt mention that.The men stared a little closer at the second model and talked quietly between themselves. Holly was used to this, giving her customers plenty of alone time to talk openly about their likes and dislikes. But as the men talked, Holly noticed the shoes of the taller man. He wore beat-up tan loafers the kind more suited for Dockers or jeans. Strange , she thought. Most business men shopping for homes in this price range wore the right shoes. Dark wing tips, fine Italian leather. She let the observation pass. Ill go put together a packet for you. She smiled at the other man. He wore his baldness in an intentional sort of way. Would you like one also?Uh, he looked at his brother and shrugged, sure. If you dont mind.Absolutely not. She returned to her office, but as she was putting the two packets together, her strange feeling about the men remained. She picked up her radio, the one that would signal the developers that she needed their help if any trouble arose in the model home. She clipped it to her belt and tried to get her mind around what it was about the men that bothered her. Maybe the one named Sam was trying to impress his kid brother, make it seem like he was on the verge of purchasing a five-million-dollar home. Shed certainly caught people lying about being in this affordability bracket. Whatever the reason, she was sure of one thing.Shed never seen him up here before.Holly returned to the men and handed them each a packet. By then they were fairly focused on the newer phase. I dont have an appointment for another hour. She looked from Sam to his brother. Do you have time for a tour?Definitely. Sam smiled. Tell me, what protection do these homes have against fires? The bigger brushfires?Something about the way he asked the question sent a chill down Hollys back. Well, the question was a strange one, not the usual curiosity about square footage and lot sizes. But maybe because of the wind We have a sprinkler system around the perimeter of the development, and fireproof tile roofs on every house. She led them toward the front of the house. Homeowners dues will provide for brush clearing on an annual basis. That sort of thing.She chastised herself for letting the mans question distract her. Lets take a look through this estate first. She moved toward a sweeping staircase, marked by distinctly designed cherry wood and set against an entire wall of wainscoting and detailed high-end molding. We call this model Bella Noche . For the next twenty minutes she led the men through the house, describing more than a hundred features, forcing them to linger in the rooms with the most breathtaking views.The whole time she felt strangely nervous. Maybe because the men hadnt had an appointment, or because of the question about fire or the way the taller mans shoes didnt work with his look. Whatever it was, something about them didnt add up. She kept her hand close to her radio, ready in case the men threatened her in any way. But as the tour came to a close, Holly felt herself relax. The men were talking like any other potential buyers, going on about the benefits of being up here in the hills versus on the valley floor closer to the freeways, and wondering about whether this model or the one next door would better suit their needs.You have children? Holly held her clipboard to her chest as they walked slowly toward the front door.Three, and they need all the space they can get. He rolled his eyes. They dont exactly like each other.Thats an understatement. His bald brother gave Holly a knowing look. What is the square footage in the other models?They range from sixty-five hundred to just under ten thousand. She felt proud of the fact. Not that shed ever be able to afford anything close to the homes she sold, but the developers had done a brilliant job with Phase Two. Each estate took advantage of the limited flat land, and included oversized windows that let in every possible view.Holly still had time, so she led the men outside and along the walkway that ran in front of the entire street of homes. At the end she pointed to the largest of the homes, one that was just being framed. Thats Bella Grande , the most spacious property in this phase.The men seemed to take careful note of the place. Sits right in the hillside. Sam seemed impressed with the fact.The developers made the best use of the natural topography, while maintaining a building pad large enough to include half-acre front and side yards.You have a picture of the place? Sams brother opened the packet hed been carrying and thumbed through the glossy material inside.Yes. Youll find every model represented in the brochure. She pointed down the street. The homes at that end will be finished first. The others have a completion date of next spring.With that, the brothers seemed satisfied. Holly was walking with them back to the black Mercedes when Sam turned to her as if hed just remembered a final thought. Id like to bring my wife up. How late are you here?This is my long shift. She caught her hair in one hand so the wind couldnt whip it against her face. Ill be here until nine oclock, same as the late work crew.Sam smiled. Very good. Look for us sometime after dinner. The men left, and five minutes later Hollys first appointment showed up a couple in their late fifties, with their realtor in tow. The hours melted away, and it was two oclock before she knew it, the time each day when the developers took a break and met at the model home for lunch and an update on the sales prospects.Ron Jacobs was the first through the door, followed by his father and a team of assistants. He found Holly in her office organizing a stack of follow-up sheets. Hey she stood, her voice soft. Hows the building going?He leaned against the doorframe of her office and smiled at her. With everything my dads built in these hills, this is it, Holly. The crown jewel. Best of the best. He came closer and reached for her hand. His fingers felt sweaty, the way they often did. You were busy this morning.She told him about the two brothers and about the others who had come with appointments. The one guy, Sam Baker, will be back tonight with his wife.Good. Ron gave her hand a quick squeeze and released it. Thats what were looking for. Return visits. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. Youre beautiful. He brushed a strand of hair off her face. The windblown look suits you.Her cheeks warmed under his gaze. Ill be out in the kitchen in a minute.I have a few subs to check on, but we can spend the last few hours together. If you dont get too many walk-ins.Holly nodded and waited for him to leave. As he did, she exhaled and stared at the pile of papers on the desk in front of her. Ron was a generally attractive man. Kind and diligent, a churchgoer who didnt ask more from her than she was willing to give. But he was a decade older than her and never married, a man for whom work and helping others came before anything else. Every other night there was a charity auction or benefit dinner, something that drew the attention of both father and son.The one difference between Ron and his father was that Ron had never wanted marriage and a family. Development was his true love, something even he joked about. Holly had known Ron since shed been hired by the company, but in the past year hed shown a change of heart in his priorities. Hed stay late just to talk to her, and sometimes on slow afternoons hed tell her that he was beginning to believe there had to be more to life than building beautiful homes and attending charity events.Indeed.Holly pulled a rubber band from the top desk drawer, gathered her hair behind her, and pulled it into a ponytail that hung halfway down her back. She cared about Ron, she did. No one else had come along, and there was no point living in the past, so maybe this was it the man her parents had prayed for all those years when she was growing up. She wiped her still-damp hand on her black dress slacks and sighed.At the same time, something caught her eye, a photo on the front page of the Times Metro section. Even from this angle there was something familiar about the build of the man in the picture. Earlier shed been too busy to even glance at the headlines, but now she rolled her chair to the left a few inches and as she did, the photo came into view. She gasped before she could stop herself.Her lungs couldnt process the breath and again she tried to breathe while her heart dropped to the floor. The picture showed a stern-faced sheriffs deputy standing at attention, a trophy in his hand. Beside him was a stoic-looking German shepherd, his ears forward, body rigid and alert. Holly let her eyes fall to the caption beneath the photo because she had to see it, had to read his name in print before she could actually believe it. And there it was. Los Angeles Sheriffs Deputy Alex Brady and his K9 partner, Bo, receive an award for excellence at a recent ceremony. Her eyes moved back to his, and she felt her heart limp slowly back to place. If it werent for the distinct angles of his face and the way he held his broad shoulders back, she wouldnt have had a clue who he was. His eyes were so hard it hurt to look at him.She brought the paper a little closer and studied him. Oh, Alex you never made it back, did you? Tears blurred her vision, and she blinked so she could read the rest of the caption. It wasnt long, not even a complete story. Just the fact that Alex and Bo had made more arrests than any other K9 team in the department for the second straight year. The only quote from Alex was a brief one. Im doing what I love.Holly looked at him once more. The eyes of the Alex Brady she had known had been filled with light, same as his face. That Alex had spent his Sunday mornings at church and his weekends taking her on long walks, laughing over Fresh Prince re-runs, and whispering on the phone until late at night No one could dampen the life that spilled into everything they did together. Holly allowed herself to remember those years like she rarely remembered them anymore. There had been a time when she could look into Alexs eyes and easily know who he loved and what he loved and how much he loved.But now? No matter what he said to the reporter, Alexs expression told a different story. That he didnt love anything or anyone at all. She took a last look at the paper, folded it carefully in half, and slid it into her bag for later. Still, even as she tried to tuck the memories away into the shadowy corners of her heart, they came back to life.As vivid as theyd been in the days after 9/11. A s far as Holly could tell, the change in Alex happened as soon as he got the news about the Twin Towers collapsing. Alex became a different person overnight, as if a piece of him had been buried in the rubble of Ground Zero.She went to his house the morning of September 12, and his mother answered the door. The two of them hugged and cried, muttering about how maybe Alexs dad was alive, and maybe he would be rescued any minute. Finally, Holly took a few steps back and looked into the other room. Alex was sitting on the sofa, staring at the television. His eyes were red, his cheeks tearstained. Holly looked back at his mother. Can I can I talk to him?You can try. She dried her cheeks, her tone weary. He found out this morning that he wasnt allowed down there. She turned in his direction. So hes watching it on TV.Holly was heartbroken for him, but even so, she never expected the reaction she got that day. She went to him and sat beside him on the sofa. AlexI cant talk. He didnt look at her. Sorry, Holly I have to watch this. I have to know. He stood and walked closer to the screen. Hes alive in there somewhere; I can feel it. They just need to get to him.The pain in his voice frightened her, and she slid back deeper into the sofa. For two hours she stayed, wanting to help or hug him, trying to offer him some sort of comfort. But he was driven by the action on the screen, as if by watching carefully he could somehow will the rescue workers to find his father.Alex stayed that way all day and for the next several days until the captains in charge of the rescue operation declared that the work had become a recovery. No one could possibly have survived the collapse of the towers and still be alive so many days later.Again Holly went to him, but this time Alex met her at the door. I cant talk. His eyes were dead, closed off in a way theyd never been to her. My mom and I have a lot to work through, Holly. Try to understand.She tried, and at first she figured he was in shock, the way most of the country and particularly the people of New York City were. But as the horrible days turned into weeks, his distance from her and indifference toward her remained.Whereas before the attacks Alex had spent most of his free time with her, afterwards he wanted only to come home and study, or run at the track. He finished senior football season with his best numbers ever, but he seemed to find no joy in playing or in anything else.Im worried about him, his mother admitted at one of the home games when Holly sat beside her. He told me he doesnt believe in God anymore. Not if God could let all those firefighters die.The weeks became months. Over Christmas break, Alex talked to her just once. Ive been a jerk, Holly. I know it. He looked at her, but not really. Not the way he used to. Its like I cant feel anything anymore. Like Im stuck or something.Holly remembered one time that spring when they happened to meet after school in the 400 Building. He saw her from the other side of the hallway. Of course, he saw her. But he barely looked at her, and he never even slowed as he approached her.Alex. She called his name, and that was when he finally stopped and really noticed her.HeyHolly felt strangely awkward, the way she had never felt around Alex. Wanna go get something to eat? We need to talk.His eyes never softened, never showed even a hint of emotion. No, thanks. I have to get to work. He started walking away from her. See ya, Holly.So many times that year she had wanted to shake him, stop him in the school parking lot or in the cafeteria, and yell at him in front of the whole student body, if thats what it took. Because Alex Brady wasnt the only one suffering from the disaster of 9/11. At their school alone, nearly half the kids knew someone who died, someone who was hurt or grieving the loss of a loved one.Support groups began meeting after school, and counselors were available for kids who couldnt shake their sorrow. But Alex was different from any of those. As far as Holly knew, he never once went for counseling or met with one of the support groups. Whatever he was feeling, he never voiced his sorrow or grief. Instead, he simply let the Alex Brady he had once been die. At the graduation party when school ended, he pulled her aside and gave her more of a window into his new life than hed given her all year. Im moving, he told her. His look still wasnt the clear-eyed one she had known before, but his tone was kind. I wanted you to hear it from me.She asked him where he was going, and when he explained that he was headed out West to fight crime, she suddenly understood. His life, his heart, his days all of it had become taken up by one single focus taking out the sort of criminal that had killed his father. A year later when she went to LA, she was sure he wouldve found his way past the hurt and anger. If he wasnt seeing anyone, she expected him to welcome her with open arms and apologize for how hed acted. But not once since September 11 had she seen him look even remotely like the guy she used to love.She had talked to his mother several times mostly in the first few years after the terrorist attacks. Hes hurting, Holly. He wont deal with it, so the pain stays in his heart where its killing him.Does he really think hell find healing by seeking revenge? Holly still loved him. She wouldve done anything to reach him, but she no longer knew how.It isnt revenge. Alexs mother sounded pensive. He cares about the bad guys as much as the victims. Before he settled on law enforcement, he even thought about going into counseling. So he could help people change for the better before they were capable of hurting society.It was as if Alex was trying to become a real life Batman, a person incapable of sustaining relationships in his quest to right all the wrongs in the world. And for some sad reason even though everyone who loved him could see the futility in his driving determination Alex couldnt see it.He still couldnt see it.
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