Chapter Ten

 

Katie Derby sat in her brother’s apartment bored out of her mind. How could her brother stand to be on a business call for two whole hours?

 

She hadn’t decided what she was going to do after college, let alone what major she was aiming for. But, whatever she did decide to do, she was going to damn well make sure it didn’t involve being on the phone for two hours on a Friday night.

 

Flipping through the channels on his large flat screen, she ended up watching the news and thinking about Jason. Jason Keaton had been on her mind for years. Her best friend, her roommate, her confidante, the only man she’d ever wanted to be with. And, the only man who didn’t have any interest in her at all. Ever since leaving Boston, she’d checked her phone for messages every five minutes.

 

If her brother knew that the real reason she was in town was to show Jason she didn’t need him, she was sure he’d send her packing. Ric and her were made of stronger stuff, they had never run away from anything, including their problems. They faced them and tore down anything that got in their way. Not like their parents, for them, running to different corners of the globe had been a standard.

 

Checking her phone for messages again, she wasn’t surprised to not see any. Even Brenda, her best friend since second grade, hadn’t messaged her all weekend. Brenda, along with four of her other friends had decided to spend the weekend in Mexico. Basking in the sun, picking up guys, and drinking all night didn’t sound like much fun to Katie right now. But, maybe the beach was better than here?

 

Looking around her brother’s sparkling apartment, she wondered why she’d bothered to come here at all. She could be at the beach, getting over the kiss and the embarrassment she caused herself with Jason. Maybe she would call and get a flight for the next day.

 

Just then, she looked up to see her brother walking in. He really did look like someone had beat him over the head with a baseball bat. Every time she saw him, she cringed knowing he must be in terrible pain.

 

Meeting Roberta, Rob as she’d told her to call her, had been the only highlight of the weekend so far. Knowing she had something to hang over her dear brother’s head, she smiled and decided he could take a little more poking from his sister.

 

Ric hated dealing with lawyers and insurance agents. Having his art stolen in his gallery was an easier task to deal with than having something stolen as it was being delivered. Even though Roberta had filled out the police report, which he had multiple copies of. He still had to explain to three different agents and two different lawyers what had happened. Couldn’t they just look at the damn reports?

 

His head was throbbing as he walked back into his living room. His sister’s dark head bounced up when she heard him walk into the room. His television was on the news and about twenty decibels louder than he would have liked.

 

Walking into the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of water and downed his medications.

 

“No, you don’t,” his sister said as she walked into the room. “you aren’t suppose to take those on an empty stomach. Besides, you promised me you would take me out tonight.

 

Looking at her, you would think they weren’t related. Where Ric was tall, sandy blond hair and blue eyes, his sister was shorter, dark wavy hair and she had eyes the color of his old chestnut horse, Caramel. He’d actually called her Caramel Katie for most of their childhood.

 

Leaning against the counter he watched her check her phone for the millionth time.

 

“Expecting a call?” He laughed at the face she made at him.

 

“I thought Rob was really very pretty. Don’t you?” She crossed her arms over her chest mimicking him.

“Touché,” he laughed with her, “Come on, I know this great little pizzeria just down the street.”

 

Rob was thinking about pulling her hair out. She spent her days hunched over case files and her nights hunched over her computer trying to track down her father’s family.

 

She had his police record, the large file sat on her desk next to her laptop. She knew her mother’s name, or what her father always told her it had been, was Mary Catelani, but so far she hadn’t come up with any clues as to where her family had come from. Her father had always told her that her mother had died in a car accident in Seattle when Rob had been four. She’d pulled the records from the Seattle PD for any deaths involving that name within the right time frame. Nothing. She’d searched the whole state of Washington’s database. Again, she’d come up empty.

 

It was less than five minutes ago that she finally found her answers. Her name was Maria Catalonia, she’d been just seventeen when she’d given birth to Rob. She’d listed the father as unknown on her birth certificate. It appeared that her mother was still alive.

 

A week after she’d been born with the name of Ruth Ann Catalonia, she’d been stolen from her grandparents house and never seen again. Her grandparents had offered a reward of ten thousand dollars for any information leading to the whereabouts of their grand-daughter, whom they had full custody of at the time.

 

Ruth Catalonia. Her mind was spinning. She typed the name and the small town of Washington that her grandparents had lived in at the time.

 

Old news articles came up, one with a picture of a small dark haired baby girl, dressed in a light pink floral gown.

 

Rob sat there and looked at herself as a baby. For the first time in her life, she knew that her father hadn’t just stolen her childhood, he’d actually stolen her.

 

The next few days with his sister seemed to fly by. It had only taken her two days to destroy his guest room. And another day to pack her stuff and get a flight to Mexico to go be with her friends.

 

She apparently never received the call she’d been looking for and on several occasions he’d tried to talk to her about it. Every time she would just change the subject to Roberta or their parents.

 

He’d thought of Rob more often now. She’d called a few times to update him on his case, each time he’d enjoyed her voice and realized how much he missed seeing her.

 

He was sitting in his office late one night, thinking about her, when Kimberly knocked on his door. “I’m just heading out for the night. Oh, Detective Stanton is waiting for you down stairs, shall I tell her to come on up?”

 

Standing, Ric replied, “No, I’m just leaving myself. I’ll come down. Goodnight Kimberly.”

 

Shutting his door behind him, he followed her down the stairs and watched Kimberly walk out the front door. He turned and flipped the lock behind her. He’d expected to see Rob walking around in the main gallery, instead he found her standing next to the window in his store room. She looked lost and sad as she gazed out at the rainy night.

 

“Detective?” he saw her jump, “Is there something I can do for you?” She turned towards him, leaning against the window sill.

 

“Well, it appeared that Kenny Sorvillo, your bald art theft was found this morning floating face down in the Columbia River. But, the weird part was that he’d been beaten, stabbed twenty-eight times, and shot five times.” She turned and looked out the window again. “We still haven’t found the other two men who helped him out.”

 

“You came all this way on a rainy night to give me an update on my case?” He walked closer. He could tell there was something bothering her. He waited to see if she would open up to him.

 

She took a deep breath.

 

It had been chewing at her insides for days. She hadn’t talked to anyone else about what she’d found out. How could she? She’d known her father was a bottom-feeder her whole life. But, to actually steal a baby.

 

After more research, she’d found out that her mother had eventually married. She even had a half-brother out there somewhere, just a few years younger than her. How many cold nights had Rob wished for someone to love her?

 

Her father had taken everything away from her. Yet, she was torn between hate and love for the man. He hadn’t been such a bad guy all the time. Just when he drank. She’d never once been told to brush her teeth, go to bed early, or do her homework. He’d trusted her to know that those things should be done, and she’d done them.

 

Looking at it in clear light, she realized what had probably happened. They’d had an affair, Maria had gotten pregnant and told her family she didn’t know who the father was. She had too many of his traits not to be part of her old man, he must have found out Maria had given up custody of her to her grandparents and snuck in and taken her as a baby. That was the only explanation she could come up with. That was how she hoped it had been.

 

Turning now, she looked into Ric’s eyes. She saw the concern and it ate at her.

 

“Did you know that when I was seventeen, I broke into this building?” She patted the window sill. “I crawled in this window, opened a safe sitting just there,” she pointed to the corner, if she closed her eyes, she could still see the old black safe in her mind. “I took twelve hundred dollars in cash and this,” she held up her right hand and showed him the gold ring that glimmered on her finger. She hadn’t realized tears were streaming down her face until he stepped closer and gently wiped them with his thumb.

 

“I walked back to my friends and we went to celebrate, and they were all gunned down that night and it was my fault. All my fault. I’ve never told anyone about what really happened that night.”

 

She took a deep breath, “Just like I haven’t told anyone else what I just found out this week. My father stole me when I was a week old from my grandparents house.” She pulled away from him and hugged herself.

 

“He raised me by himself, knowing that they were looking for me. He taught me to be a thief, showed me how to pick-pockets almost before I could walk. How to crack a safe when most ten-year-old’s were tucked warmly in their beds. Then, when I was older, he’d hit me after drinking too much. Hit me until things would break, until I almost broke.” Ric pulled her into a light hug.

 

“I’m so sorry…” he started.

 

“I’m not,” she pulled back and looked at him. “Over the last few days I’ve thought about it.”

 

Pulling further away, she quickly dashed away the tears. “I wouldn’t be where I am now if it wasn’t for that man. If it hadn’t been for that night over ten years ago. And, if it hadn’t been for Detective Johns. I can’t look back, I’m Roberta Stanton, ex-thief, detective, and I love my job, I love the people I work with, I love my apartment, my old car, and I even love my stupid cat.”

 

Ric smiled, “You are the strongest woman I know.” He walked up to her again and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I’m not sorry you are who you are either.” Upon her empty look, he continued, “I would have never met the sexy, spit-fire detective who has me thinking about her all the time.”

 

Rob laughed, “Is that really what you think of me?”

 

He smiled at her, then he was kissing her and answering her question. His lips were warm and soothing. She held onto his shoulders as his tongue played with hers. She felt a shiver run down her spine when his lips set a trail down her neck. She arched back to give him better access. Running her hands over his shoulders, she enjoyed the smoothness of his suite. He was neat and prim and she really wanted to mess him up. Tugging his shirt from his pants, she ran her hands up his chest and enjoyed the feel of every muscle. She’d seen his body, all of it, and knew just how wonderful he looked.

 

Then, he returned the favor and pulled her shirt free from her pants. His warm fingers sent shivers up her spine as he roamed higher and higher, until finally, her hands fell away from him and she was gasping for air as he gently stroked her delicate skin.

 

Leaning against the brick wall, she moaned his name as he bent his head and replaced his hands with his mouth.

 

The wall was cool on her back as Ric’s mouth claimed her skin, heating her up from her core. She grabbed his hair and held on as he tortured her, running his hands up and down her sides.

 

She reached for his belt and tried to pull it from his pants, but he took her hands and pulled them beside her head and looked into her eyes. They were both gasping for breath and she could see the matching desires in his eyes.

 

“Wait,” he said and leaned his forehead against hers. “Let’s just slow down a minute.” He closed his eyes.

 

Closing her eyes, she rested her head back against the brick wall.

 

She’d wanted the sex, she wanted it with him, fast, here against the wall in this room with so much history. She’d be damned of the consequences. Thank goodness he had the sense to stop.

 

“Listen Ric…” she started, but he interrupted.

 

“Don’t,” he leaned back and took a deep breath, “don’t tell me this was a mistake. Because we both know it wasn’t.” Tucking in his shirt as she tucked in hers, he smiled at her. “How about we go get some dinner?”

 

She laughed, “Sure, how about we swing by Barb’s. I’m in the mood for a greasy burger.”

 

Two days later, his bruises on his face were completely healed, he still had tender spots on his head and his shoulder still felt stiff, but the stitches were finally gone. He’d been given the go-ahead from his doctor to start lifting weights and running again. Running had been something he’d done almost every day for the past twenty years. Giving it up for those few days had been like giving up caffeine.

 

The next morning as he was jogging on the riverfront pathway, he couldn’t help but feel more rooted. The sun was just rising, bouncing off the river as he took his favorite path.

 

He could smell summer coming and knew he’d be heading to California in a few months to stay there for a few weeks. He wondered why he continued to divide his time so much. He really did enjoy Portland and the slower life style here more than the fog and fast-pace of downtown LA. He had several galleries across the US. Why did he keep splitting his time between these two? He knew that LA was the hot-spot for a lot of the art world. New York was as well, but he only traveled there once or twice a year.

 

It’s not as if he was needed at any of his locations for any given time. Oh, he occasionally flew in to town for a show, or a meeting, but for the most part, he could successfully run everything from this office. He’d thought about staying in Portland full time more and more over the last few years.

 

Then his thoughts turned towards Roberta. He’d never enjoyed someone’s company as much as hers. When they’d eaten at Barb’s the other night, the conversation was something they didn’t have to work at. She wasn’t just damn sexy, but smart and witty. They’d laughed and enjoyed each other so much, that they’d stayed at the restaurant until after eleven that night.

 

Every time he thought of her, he found it too hard to concentrate on anything else. He’d just hit the three mile mark in his run and was turning around to start heading back when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

 

The jogging path was well traversed, he always ended up passing a dozen or so people on his morning runs. However, as he looked around now, he couldn’t see anyone else in sight. Maybe that was the reason for his alarm, since he was hardly ever alone on the trail. Pulling his earbuds out of his ears, he listened and looked around. When he didn’t hear or see anything, he was just about to start jogging again, when a sharp burning pain exploded on his side and he heard the gun shot.