He hung the checked shirt and the Dockers in the closet and shut the door; the prison grays were in the laundry basket in the basement. He had decided to keep them; he would store them at the back of the top shelf in the closet, a reminder of this tumultuous time in his life.
Wearing a deep blue velour dressing gown over the freshly laundered maroon pajamas, he pulled the sheet and spread down and crawled into the bed. He leaned back against the stacked pillows, looking slowly around the room… his room. With an almost bemused smile he turned slowly to the table lamp beside him. He snapped it off, plunging the room into darkness. With a low chuckle, he snapped it on again.
He reached for the hardback book lying open on the bedside table; Steve had bought him Herman Wouk's "War and Remembrance" over six months ago, and he had been almost a third of the way through it when the interruption occurred. He picked it up and smiled ironically; he couldn't remember anything about the book and knew he would have to start at the beginning again.
The bookmark was lying on the table and he picked it up, flipping back to the first page. He picked up the leather case and slipped his reading glasses out, putting them on. He was just about to start to reacquaint himself with the bestseller when there was a soft knock on the door.
"Come in." He put the book down and looked towards the door as it opened; Jeannie, in her nightgown, robe and slippers, leaned against the frame and smiled at him. He smiled warmly back.
"Am I disturbing you?"
He chuckled and closed the book, not even bothering with the marker. "Of course not."
She crossed to the bed and put her hand lightly on his cheek. "I'm glad you're home," she whispered.
He blinked quickly a couple of times as he took off the glasses and laid them on top of the book on the table. He tossed the covers off his legs and patted the bed beside him. Grinning, she sat on the bed and, as he pulled the blankets back up, she leaned into him. He put his arm around her and pulled her close and she laid her head against his shoulder. "I'm glad I'm home too."
She sighed heavily. They sat quietly for almost a minute, luxuriating in each other's company, then she said softly, "Mike, I know why you did it… I mean, I know why you said you did it… but was it really just because of Mr. Mercer… I mean, was there more to it than just that…?"
"You mean did I have another motive? Something more personal… like Cord threatened you or me… or someone else?"
He felt her shrug. "I guess…" she offered tentatively.
He shook his head. "I wish there was more to it, sweetheart, but that was it. I didn't have much time to react… I just knew I had to get Gordon Mercer out of there, and I had to do it fast."
"But… Mike… why did you think you owed him so much? Why did you think you owed him your… your life, essentially?"
He took a deep breath and laid his cheek against the top of her head. He didn't want to say to her she was too young to understand; condescension wasn't something she needed right now. "Jeannie, honey, there are some things that are more easily understood the older you get –"
"Oh, please, Mike, don't use that excuse –"
"It's not an excuse, sweetheart, it's what I felt… and it's what I believed at the time… and it's what I still believe now. There are times in our lives when you have to step back and look at the bigger picture – and sometimes that picture doesn't have you in it. And when I saw Leonard Cord lying on that warehouse floor, and I knew that Gordon Mercer had killed him, all I could see was me, if the circumstances had been different."
He took another deep breath and pulled her closer. "What if, all those years ago, Cord had decided not to kill Valerie Mercer on that bus, but you instead… what would I have done, what would have become of me… without you...?" He felt her stiffen. "I can tell you what I think would've happened. I would've tracked him down and killed him myself and I wouldn't've given a damn what happened to me."
He raised his head, kissed her hair then laid his cheek against her head once again. "So you see, that was going through my mind when I saw Valerie's father at the warehouse… There but for the grace…" He closed his eyes and let the silence lengthen. "And I'd do it again, honey… I'd do it again…"
She wrapped both arms around him and pulled him tighter, and he could feel her hot tears soaking into the flannel of his pajama top. After several very long seconds, she let go of him slightly and said with a light warmth, "You're a remarkable man, Mike Stone, and I am so proud that you're my daddy."
He chuckled self-consciously and kissed the top of her head again, too overwhelmed to say anything.
"So," she said after what she hoped was long enough for him to get a grip on his emotions, "what are you going to do about getting back to work? Do you think they're going to allow you to just go back?"
He cleared his throat. "Humh, well, that's the 64 thousand dollar question, isn't it?"
"Do you want to go back?"
"Of course I do. I mean, I'm still relatively young, you know –"
"Relatively," she interjected with a chuckle. He squeezed her quickly and firmly, and she jumped and laughed. "Hey…!"
"Don't get cheeky with me, you little monkey; you're beginning to sound like Steve."
She smiled warmly at the name and nestled her head against him again. "Do you have any idea how much work he and the others put in to get you out?"
Mike laid his head back against the pillow and inhaled deeply. "Yes, I do," he said quietly, his throat suddenly tightening. "I'll never be able to repay them –"
"They don't want you to repay them, Mike… they just want you to go back to work. They just want things back to normal... Like I do…."
"Me too," he whispered, sounding far away, and she lay against him silently, feeling him breathe, listening to his heart beating under her touch.
"So, what about going back to work?"
"Well, Gerry said the brass want to see me sometime next week. When he was getting all those… letters together… he told me the Chief wants me to take some time off, a few days, then he wants to meet with me. I'm sure I'll be disciplined somehow then… who knows? But at this point, I'll accept whatever happens… I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
"Do you think they'll strip you of your rank? And what about your pension? Will you still get that?"
He shook his head slightly. "I have no idea, sweetheart. They could very well bust me down to sergeant, or even back to patrol if they wanted to. I don't have a leg to stand on, even if the union backs me a hundred percent. What I did… well, they don't even have to take me back if they don't want to so…"
"But what you did wasn't really illegal, was it?"
"Well, no… but…"
"But what…?"
He sighed, trying to find the right words then gave up; there were none. "Pleading guilty to a crime you didn't commit is not a crime, but there's a little more to it than that… I did some things that are… well, let's just say I could be charged for them, if that's what they want to do."
"Like what?" Suddenly there was an anxious and worried edge to her tone that broke his heart. He didn't want to punish her anymore than he already had.
"Well, for starters," he began lightly, trying to take the weighty edge off, "I covered up a murder… I committed what they call 'accessory after the fact' by concealing the identity of the real murderer and allowing him to… escape. That's a very serious charge, Jeannie. And, ah, and I did something else just as bad."
He felt her hands tighten on his pajama top and knew she was getting more than just a little worried. "What?" she asked breathlessly.
"I tossed Gordon Mercer's gun into the Bay."
"But he didn't kill Cord with the gun… so why is that a problem?"
"Yes, he didn't kill Cord with the gun but he did use it to kidnap him and get him to the pier. It was an important piece of evidence and I got rid of it. That's another thing that's not looked upon fondly in law enforcement."
"But they let you out of prison… they can't think those things were all that bad if they just let you out of prison, can they?"
"Well, honey, letting me out of prison is a lot different than letting me back on the force again. They could decide they've already done enough for me, but that what I did, noble as it seemed at the time – well, to me, anyway – is enough and that I should look elsewhere now for gainful employment for the rest of my life."
She hesitated, and he could hear her breathing, knowing she was trying to process this unsettling information after such a wonderfully optimistic day. "So you could lose everything…?"
He pulled her closer again and chuckled softly, trying to allay her fears. "No, sweetheart, not everything. This house is paid for, you know that, so I just have to make sure I have enough to pay the taxes and the upkeep every year… and I still have you… and Steve and Dan…" He kissed her head again and sighed almost happily. "I have everything a man could ask for…"
He didn't want her to get too upset; it was time to take a new tack. "But you know what I want right now?" he asked with a chuckle, pulling away from her and almost forcing her to look at his face.
She managed to find a smile as she sat up and looked at him. "What's that?"
"I want a good night's sleep in my own bed. It's been awhile."
"It sure has," she said as she leaned forward and kissed his lips. She knew what he was trying to do, and this time she was going to let him get away with it. They would have plenty more time to talk about things in the next few days while his future hung in the balance. She started to slide off the bed, facing him as her feet hit the floor. "Hey, just before I knocked on the door, I saw the light go off and then on again. Did you do that deliberately?"
Mike chuckled and glanced away self-consciously. "Yeah – and it wasn't because I forgot how a lamp worked," he joked defensively. "The lights are never completely off in a prison; there's always light. So you get used to sleeping with the lights on. When I turned off the lamp just now, the room went black. I haven't been in complete darkness since the night before Leonard Cord was murdered. And I know it sounds silly, but I'm really looking forward to it tonight."
Her grin was warm. "It doesn't sound silly at all." She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips again. "Get a good night's sleep and I'll make French toast for you in the morning. I bet it's been a long time since you've had that, right?"
He grinned back and rolled his eyes. "Okay, now I know I'm really home. Pot roast and French toast. I'm the luckiest guy in the world."
With a laugh, she crossed to the door, stopping to stare at him before she closed it. "I love you, Daddy." Her eyes were sad but warm and her smile was gone.
"I love you too, sweetheart… more than you can ever know." His voice was little more than a whisper.
She closed her eyes and her face lit up. When she opened her eyes again, they were bright with tears. "I know…" she said softly as she closed the door. "I've always known…"
