(Chapter 30. January 7-14. Various places.)
Steve sprinted to answer the phone before the machine picked up. He wanted it to be Olivia, and couldn't quite keep the disappointment from his voice when Jesse came on the line.
"Hey, Steve," said his way-too-cheerful friend. "How was the first day back at work?"
"Oh, hi, Jess. It was all right."
"Wow." Jesse said in a slightly sarcastic tone, "Calm down and tell me all about it."
Steve smiled into the phone, "Sorry, Jess." He continued lightly. "It was a good day. I caught two easy cases. They were so open and shut I actually had them both wrapped up by the end of the day. I should always be so lucky."
"Steve, that's great!" Jesse cheered, "So why do you sound so disappointed?"
"Well, I was hoping to hear from Liv. She had that appointment with Dr. Gregg today, and I thought she might want to talk to me when it was over."
It had really bothered Steve last week that Olivia had decided she didn't want to see him until after her next therapy session, but she had finally talked with Jesse a little about her past and visits to Dr. Gregg. Now at least Steve had someone with whom to discuss what he had seen and felt. Jesse could help him understand things about therapy he wasn't sure he could talk over with Liv or Dr. Gregg.
"I see," Jesse said thoughtfully. "Steve, she's probably just had a busy day. I'll bet she calls soon."
"Yeah," Steve agreed, "I hope so."
"Look, if she doesn't call before you're ready for bed, why don't you call her? Ask if it's a bad time and if she says yes, apologize, and say goodnight. If she says no, tell her about your day, and ask if she wants to talk about hers."
"That sounds like a plan, Jess, thanks."
"Any time, bro."
Steve smiled slightly.
"Uh, Jess," he said tentatively.
"Yeah?"
"Have you seen her since Thursday? How's she doing?"
He heard the laugh in Jesse's voice.
"We had lunch today, Steve. She seemed a little preoccupied, but otherwise all right. Why?"
"Well, I was wondering…does she miss me?"
This time Jesse laughed out loud.
"She was hoping you had a good day and was looking forward to seeing you tonight. You're all she talked about. She said how proud she was of you, how relieved she was that you were ok with her going to therapy, how excited she was to be seeing you again today, and how hopeful she was that everything would work out between you two. In fact, you were so much the topic of conversation that I started to get bored."
"Jess!" Steve groaned in frustration. "It isn't funny."
Jesse laughed again.
"Yes it is, Steve. You are all tied up in knots about her, and it really is too funny." When he stopped laughing, he continued. "Seriously, though. I know that at lunch she was planning to drop in at your place. If she doesn't show, something probably came up and you should give her a call, ok?"
"Ok, Jess, and uh, thanks for the advice."
"Sure thing, man. Thank you for the laugh."
"Good bye, Jess."
With a chuckle he said, "Bye, Steve."
At ten thirty that evening, Steve left a third message on Olivia's machine.
"Liv, it's Steve again. I've tried the hospital, your cell phone, and your pager. I'm getting worried. Jesse said you were planning to come by this evening. I'm on my way over to your place. If you get this message before you see me, call my cell number. If you don't want to talk, that's all right. I just want to know you're ok."
He hung up with a sigh and bounded up the stairs to let his dad know what he was doing.
Steve let himself in to Olivia's house at ten past eleven. There was no sense of it being occupied. He began to grow suspicious. He used his pen to flip the light switch, instinctively knowing he would be dusting for prints later. Something was definitely wrong.
With his heart in his throat, he inspected the premises. The doors were locked, and there was no sign of forced entry, but as he went from room to room, he noticed things missing. Her magazines were gone from the coffee table, and her robe no longer hung in the bathroom. In the bedroom, her overnight bag was missing, along with her sleeping bag, one of the pillows from the bed, and her pajamas. The alarm clock was also turned off. In the kitchen, the refrigerator was nearly empty, and most notably, the keys to the Mercedes were gone from their hook by the kitchen door.
She had apparently left without calling him.
He went to the answering machine and hit the playback button. The only messages on it were his own. He hit the save button anyway. Maybe some clue he was not yet aware of would appear later. Where had she gone and why?
All the plants in the mudroom were freshly watered, and the house was strangely cold. A quick check of the thermostat showed the heat was set at fifty degrees. He went to the breaker box and found that she had shut off the power to the water heater. She clearly planned to be gone a while.
Great.
As he turned from the breaker box something…or rather the lack of something…caught his eye. There was an empty space in Olivia's gun cabinet. A rifle usually sat there. Olivia once told him it was the same gun her grandfather had used to commit suicide. She knew it was odd to keep it, but she'd said it was one of the only things she had inherited from her father's family.
Oh, dear God.
He ran through the house frantically calling her name, hoping he was wrong, praying she'd be there. He got no answer.
Taking out his cell phone, he called his dad.
"Dad, it's Steve."
"Hey son, did you find Olivia?"
"No, Dad, she didn't call, did she?"
"Haven't heard from her. What's wrong, Steve?"
Steve was shaking with fear; so, he sat down to explain everything.
He finished by asking, "Do you think she might be planning to kill herself? I know Jesse said she was excited to see me, but she was also preoccupied. I know suicidal people sometimes seem really happy once they've…made the decision."
"Steve, calm down. I don't think you have enough evidence to make that assumption."
"But, Dad, why else would she take the rifle, especially that particular one? She has two others in the cabinet."
"What makes you think she took it, son? For all you know she could have sold it weeks ago," Mark reasoned.
"No, Dad, it was her grandfather's. She'd never sell it."
"Then maybe it's being cleaned or repaired," Mark suggested.
"It was in perfect working order, and she knows how to maintain it herself. She wouldn't let anyone else touch it. Dad, I'm afraid she's in trouble."
There was a moment's silence, then, "What do you want me to do, son?"
"I'm going to call Jesse and Amanda and find out if she said anything to either of them to indicate what she was thinking. I need you to call Dr. Gregg and do the same."
"Steve, anything said in therapy is kept in strictest confidence."
"I know, Dad," Steve agreed, "but I also know that when a therapist believes a life is at stake, he is released from that confidentiality at least as far as necessary to help protect the life at risk. Call him. Please?"
"Ok, son. Then I'll come meet you at Liv's, in case she comes home."
"Actually, Dad, I'd prefer you stay there, in case she calls. If she's in trouble, I don't want her to get a machine."
"Good point. Ok, I'll get back to you soon."
"Thanks, Dad. Call me back on Olivia's phone. I doubt she'll be trying to call her own number. Bye."
After he called Jesse and Amanda, he called the station and initiated a missing persons report. Contrary to popular belief, there was no specified waiting period before Olivia would be officially considered missing, but, given she was an adult, it would be a couple days before LAPD took the matter seriously. Most of the time people reported missing less than twenty-four hours after their disappearance just showed up on their own with some explanation or another. Most of the time, though, those people didn't have her history of depression and suicidal behavior.
He shut off that line of thinking as fast as it started. He couldn't help her if he worried about things he couldn't control. He had to find her before she did it. That was the only way.
He put out an alert on the Mercedes. If it showed up anywhere, he'd have a lead to follow.
Then he settled back to wait. For his dad to call. For Olivia to walk in healthy and safe. For a detective from missing persons to show up. For someone to call about the car. And his guts burned with acid.
It was after midnight when the phone rang. Steve jumped to answer it, but caught himself before he grabbed the receiver, and picked it up carefully between his thumb and forefinger, using a tissue to avoid leaving prints.
"Hello? Liv?"
"No, Steve, it's Dad."
"Oh. What did Dr. Gregg say?"
"Well, he was not happy about being disturbed to say the least. It amazes me that a man who helps people deal with their emotions could have so much anger."
"Dad," Steve interrupted impatiently, "what did he say?"
"He wouldn't say much, Steve. Just that he didn't think she was depressed or suicidal. He was offended that I would ask and he was shocked that I might think he'd let her leave if she were so unstable. She did, however, cancel her next appointment. If you want anything more, you'll have to get a warrant. Those are his words, not mine."
"Just great, Dad!" Steve snapped. "It's been over an hour and that's all you could get me?"
Mark was apologetic.
"I did my best, Steve. We argued for quite some time. I even threatened his job. All he would say is that he doesn't believe she's in any danger. I'm sorry I couldn't do better."
Steve sighed. "I know, Dad. I'm sorry I yelled at you, I'm just so worried."
"Son, she has a habit of running when life gets too intense. Do you think-- "
"No, I don't," Steve interrupted. "She'd have said something."
"Then could it be something else, Steve?"
"Like what?"
"Well, she is quite wealthy. Maybe there'll be a ransom demand."
"Kidnappers generally don't give you time to pack, Dad."
"But if it's someone from her past who knows her habits…"
Steve finished the thought, "They might want us to think she was running to give themselves more time to get away."
"That's a possibility."
"Oh, God, Dad. What if it's Ted? The guy who tried to kill her? What if he's out?"
"Steve, she's survived so much. She'll hang on until we can find her. Given the possibilities, where do we start?"
Steve thought for just a moment.
"Change the pickup message on the machine. Make it tell Olivia to call my cell collect. Have Jesse and Amanda do the same and tell them to get over here. Then go to the hospital and get someone to get you her personnel file. I don't care if you have to wake someone at home to come in and do it. Once you have the file, come on over to her house. I'm going to call the precinct and get someone over here now. Then I'm going to call Pennsylvania to see if Ted is out after which I plan to break into her filing cabinet to see if there are any financial records or other papers that might help us locate her."
"Right," Mark agreed. "By then we should be able to start making a list of possible suspects."
"Dad, I have a bad feeling about this."
"I know, son, but try not to worry. Olivia's tougher than you think. She'll probably come through this…whatever it is…better than the rest of us."
"I hope you're right. Thanks, Dad."
"Yep. See you soon."
"Right. Bye."
Steve sighed as he let himself into Olivia's house. The smell of lavender was growing fainter every day. She'd been missing a week, and every lead had dried up. He'd been staying at her house in case she came home, and he'd noticed his Dad, Jesse, and Amanda had been taking turns staying with him. He appreciated their thoughtfulness, but didn't really feel it was necessary. He just didn't have the heart to ask them to stop.
At first, he and his dad and friends had been considered suspects in the possible kidnapping. Steve knew it was standard procedure, but it still stung. Fortunately, it didn't take much to convince Detective Simmons, the primary investigator on the case, that they weren't involved. The captain had given Steve time off knowing that he would unofficially investigate Olivia's disappearance. He said as much, and made Steve give his word that he would inform Simmons of anything he might discover.
Thankfully, Ted was still in prison, but the initial list of suspects was enormous. In the file cabinet, Steve had found a ledger filled with names of several hundred people who owed Olivia money. For most people it was a few thousand or tens of thousands of dollars, but some owed as much as several hundred thousand. In all, nearly five million dollars had been repaid over the years, but nearly eight and a half million was still owing.
Steve managed to track down her accountant, a Mr. Meyer Goldstein, in Pennsylvania, and found there was another ledger of loans that had been paid in full. All of the loans were interest free. Olivia had helped families all over the country salvage bankrupt farms and businesses. She had helped educate hundreds of children, and she had financed public works from sewage treatment plants to community centers in several small towns. Steve was stunned to find that between the liens she held against various properties and the money she had invested in diverse corporations, small businesses, and projects, Olivia was worth somewhere in the neighborhood of ninety million dollars.
He smiled. She certainly wasn't interested in him for his money. He wondered how she had come by such wealth.
Anyone owing Olivia money and anyone who knew she was wealthy had been a suspect. Mr. Goldstein had insisted that none of the people in the ledger would have harmed Olivia. He swore they all loved her and were grateful for her help. Nevertheless, he had been a huge help in locating them. He had all the addresses in the billing program on his computer and had e- mailed the file to Steve. For three days, police in twelve states and three European countries had been checking alibis.
Through her personnel file, and several interviews with Davis, Mark had tracked down many of Olivia's former acquaintances from previous jobs. While there were some who did not appreciate her direct approach to problems and her total intolerance for fools and hypocrites, none of them seemed likely to abduct her. The few Mark had suspected had ironclad alibis.
The list of angry patients was blessedly short, a testament to Olivia's caring nature and remarkable talent. Nothing panned out there either.
No name had risen to the top of the list.
Friday morning they met for breakfast at BBQ Bob's and started fresh. Who hadn't they talked to? As one, Steve, Mark, Jesse, Amanda, Detective Simmons, and Davis all said the same name.
"Carolyn Green."
"I thought you were going to talk to her Tuesday," Steve said to Simmons.
"I was, but she wasn't home when I called so I left a message. Then we had so many other leads to investigate I never got the chance to follow up."
"All it takes is a damned phone call, Simmons," Steve scolded.
"Look, Sloan," Simmons countered, "Tuesday morning we had a lot of other more likely suspects. Should I have let them go to track down a secretary?"
"No, but you should have made the f--"
"Steve," Mark interrupted before he could curse the other detective again, "any of us could have reminded him or made the call ourselves. At the time there seemed to be more important matters to attend to."
Steve bit the inside of his cheek in thought for several moments before he released his anger.
"You're right, Dad. Simmons, I'm sorry. Now we have to find Ms. Green."
"It's all right, Sloan. I know this has been hard on you." He extended his hand to Steve, and Steve shook it.
"Let's go find the secretary," Simmons said.
"Right. I have her address," Steve agreed.
Carolyn wasn't at her apartment when they got there, so Steve and Simmons split up and started questioning the neighbors. Half an hour later, they met back at the car. Steve had turned up nothing, but Simmons was grinning like the Cheshire cat.
"What have you got, Simmons?"
Simmons' grin widened.
"It seems our Ms. Carolyn Green has a convenient arrangement with an elderly neighbor, Mrs. Gladys Warren, in which Carolyn gets home-cooked meals several days a week in return for helping Mrs. Warren with housework."
"And?" Steve prodded.
"And Carolyn came for dinner on Monday as usual, but told Mrs. Warren she'd be out of town for the next week or so. Dr. Regis had given her a one-week bonus and told her to take a vacation. She's gone to Cancun."
"Did Carolyn happen to mention where Olivia was going?"
"Nothing specific as far as Mrs. Warren can recall, but she did say Carolyn mentioned that Dr. Regis was excited about 'playing in the snow.' She's probably going to the mountains."
"Good work, Simmons! Now we can limit our search to places in the mountains that were accessible to the Mercedes on Monday. Between weather and traffic reports we have a chance of finding Liv again."
Just then, Simmons' cell phone rang.
"Detective Simmons…Uh-huh…Uh-huh…Oh, hell…"
Steve felt his guts twist.
Simmons continued his conversation, "Was she alone…Ok…For how long…Do we have the plates…and there's an alert out on the new vehicle…Good….Give me the phone number and address just in case."
As Simmons wrote, Steve prayed silently, "Please don't let it be a body."
"Yeah," Simmons said, "He's right here...She did…Crap…I'll tell him…Thanks…Bye."
"What is it?" Steve asked, steeling himself for the worst.
"They've found Dr. Regis' car at a rental place up in Redding. A woman matching her description left it early Tuesday morning. She rented an SUV on her visa card, and paid a week in advance. The clerk noticed she had a rifle and very few provisions. I suppose she could have been planning to stop before she got where she was going. Until that SUV turns up, we're stuck. I'm sorry, Steve."
Steve nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Simmons had said, "I'm sorry." That's what homicide cops said to the next of kin when they were delivering a death notice.
He got into the car and slammed the door. Simmons climbed in the driver's side and said, "Now what?"
"Take me to Olivia's place. I'll wait for her there."
Carolyn Green had come back Sunday night. Simmons had checked the airports and found she had purchased a ticket to Cancun just like Mrs. Warren had said. He asked a regular patrol to watch for her, and when she arrived, they called him. She showed him the note Olivia had left her the past Monday. It was in Olivia's handwriting and explained that she was taking a week off. Olivia had suggested that Carolyn do the same and had provided her the funds to do so.
Now it was Monday evening. Steve was alone in Olivia's house. Had she run away or killed herself? Would he ever know?
He got himself a beer and went into the living room to sit on the couch. He allowed himself to sink into despair.
What could be so terrible about him that every woman he'd ever loved turned out to be crazy, criminal, married, or ended up dead? Why didn't he deserve someone to love him? And where the hell had Liv gone? She could have at least said goodbye. He didn't know what would be worse, finding out she was dead or that she had left him or never hearing anything more about her. He was so lost in thought he didn't hear Jesse come in.
"Jeeze, Steve, you look like hell." Jesse gently slipped the beer from his hand. "How many?"
Steve didn't protest, he just said, "That's the first."
Jesse put the bottle on the coffee table, and Steve snapped, "Use a coaster, dammit!"
Jesse found one on an end table and placed it under the beer. Then he sat beside his friend and put an arm around his shoulders. Steve felt bad for snapping at Jesse, but he didn't have the energy to apologize.
"Have you eaten today?"
Steve shrugged.
"I didn't think so. Your dad and Amanda are on the way with some groceries. We're all going to have dinner here, and we're going to make sure you eat. Then your dad's going to take you home and put you to bed."
"No, Jess."
"Yes, Steve." Jesse gave him a comforting squeeze around the shoulders. "She'll come home or she won't. Making yourself sick over it won't change a thing."
Steve shrugged again. There was a knock, and Jesse got the door. Steve heard himself being discussed as if he wasn't even there. He didn't care.
"How is he, Jess?"
"Depressed, Amanda. Really depressed."
His dad must have seen the beer on the table because he asked, "He's been drinking?"
"He says it's his first one, and I believe him. He doesn't seem to be drunk, just really down. I don't know how he's going to get through this, Mark."
"Well, he's going to start with a good meal and a decent night's sleep in his own bed. Then we'll see."
Amanda sat with Steve and made small talk while Mark and Jesse cooked. He tried to respond to her amusing anecdotes, but he had no sense of humor. The smells from the kitchen were heavenly, but Steve had no appetite. When Mark called everyone to the table, Amanda got up and motioned him to follow her, but Steve just waved her off. Moments later his dad came into the living room.
"You have to eat, son."
He shrugged yet again. "Not hungry, Dad."
"I know. You're depressed." With a gentle smile, Mark added, "That's the only time you quit eating."
"Please, Dad, just leave me the hell alone."
Mark sat on the coffee table to look him in the eye. He'd never seen Steve so torn up inside. To a stranger he might seem to be holding together remarkably well, but Mark knew better. Steve was holding in so much fear and anger, the only hint that this wasn't just another case was his frequent use of profanity. Mark had first noticed it the day Steve cursed Detective Simmons out when they realized no one had talked to Carolyn Green.
"Son, listen to me." Mark took a deep breath, knowing he was wading into dangerous waters, but hoping he could make Steve let some of his emotions go. "If Olivia has done herself…some injury, worrying yourself sick won't help her. If she has just run off, she isn't worth all this worry."
Enraged, Steve heaved himself off the couch.
"She's worth all of it and a thousand times more!" He yelled at his dad. "She saved my life, dammit, and I wanted to spend the rest of it with her. I'm in love with her like no woman I've ever known." His rage was quickly turning back to despair. He started to weep.
"Oh, God, Dad, where'd she go?" Steve's voice was choked with fear. "Why did she leave? What did I do wrong? Could I have prevented it?"
Mark stood and wrapped his arms around his son.
"Shh, Steve, it's ok. I don't know where she could be or why she left, but I know it was *not* your fault. You've shown her nothing but love, patience, and understanding. Olivia has lots of problems, Steve. If I had thought they were still this serious, I would have warned you off, but I really thought that overcoming them had given her the strength she needed to be good for you. I'm sorry I didn't see this coming. I would have done something if I had."
It was Steve's turn to reassure his father, and he did not miss the opportunity.
"It's all right. You couldn't have known, Dad. I didn't see it. Dr. Gregg didn't either. I just wish we had a body or at least a goodbye."
"I was awfully fond of her, son. You know that?"
"I know, Dad. Me, too."
Jesse and Amanda had come into the room to lend their friends support. They embraced father and son in a circle of friendship and joined them in their grieving. They stood together, in Olivia's living room, enveloped in the fading scent of lavender, for several minutes.
Amanda heard a noise in the foyer. She looked in that direction expecting to see detective Simmons come in with his daily report. It had been the same for days now. Nothing new. What she saw was quite astounding.
"OOOH, GIRRL!" she squealed and jumped away from her friends.
"AAAGH!" the intruder screamed back as she dropped a backpack and an overnight bag.
Mark, Jesse, and Steve jumped apart.
"LIV!" Steve yelled.
"WHAT?!?!"
A dozen questions flew at her at once. All of them were variations on one of two themes. Finally, Steve condensed them to two simple inquiries.
"Are you ok? And where the *hell* have you been?"
"Language, Steve," she chided him gently.
"Screw my effing language, Liv! I thought you were dead."
She drew herself up to her full height. Even at a mere five feet three inches, she seemed imposing as she said in a lethal tone. "Stop yelling, and *don't* *cuss* *at me*."
In two long strides, Steve stood before her. For a moment, the tension in the room was palpable. Amanda could almost believe the two might come to blows. She knew Steve was angry with her for disappearing, and she realized that Olivia had no idea how worried they all had been. Amanda thought to diffuse the situation, but didn't know what to say.
Then Steve threw his arms around Olivia and started shouting with joy.
"Thank God you're ok, oh, thank God."
Olivia looked over Steve's shoulder to Mark, Jesse, and Amanda. Confusion was plain on her face, but she neither protested nor struggled as Steve swept her off her feet and spun her around the room.
When he finally put her down, they both swayed with dizziness. As Mark and Jesse steadied them, Olivia said, "This is some kind of welcome home party. What's for dinner? It smells great! And, Steve, what do you mean you thought I was dead?"
Before Steve could begin, Mark suggested, "Let's talk about it over dinner."
As Jesse and Amanda served the meal, Mark called Detective Simmons to let him know Olivia was home safe. At Mark's request, he agreed to wait until the next day to get her statement.
Over a filling meal of meatloaf and mashed potatoes with gravy and green beans followed by a triple chocolate peanut butter pie for dessert, they took turns telling Olivia about their search for and fears about her. Steve apologized several times for invading her privacy, but insisted it was necessary.
"It's all right, Steve. But didn't you get my note?"
"What note?"
She patted his hand. "Baby, I couldn't get you on the cell phone, and you weren't at the precinct when I called. I didn't want to just leave a phone message, so I swung by your place on my way out of town and taped a note to your door."
Steve rolled his eyes, "It must have blown off. I never saw it."
After a pause, he said, "Don't you ever dare leave again without telling me in person."
"Steve, sweetie, I'm a grown woman…"
"No, dammit. You don't understand," he interrupted. Then he choked up and hung on the edge of tears for a moment.
After a few deep breaths he continued, "I thought you were never coming back, and I didn't want to go on without you."
"Why did you think I was never coming back, love?"
A deep breath. "You took your granddad's rifle."
Suddenly she understood. She leaped to her feet and came around the table. Throwing her arms around him, she sat across his lap. He began to weep again, and she joined him. They were lost together, but surrounded by friends.
"Oh, my darling, no." She spoke soothingly, interrupting herself often to kiss him. "Oh, no. You have given me so much to live for. You see, I was already dead, but then I met you. I could never, now. You are my life."
She did not realize Steve was growing angry again.
"Then why did you take the rifle, Liv? What did you plan to do with it?"
She drew back, but did not leave his lap.
"I rented a rustic cabin in the mountains. You know the kind of place I'm talking about…woodstove, outhouse, no 'fridge. I figured I'd hunt for my dinner." She smiled. "Did pretty well, too. I had meat every night. Mostly rabbit but I did some fishing, and I bagged a couple of quail."
Steve was unmoved. "Where's this cabin? We looked all over California for you."
"It's in the mountains." She didn't look at him.
"What mountains, Liv?"
"The Northern Cascades." She dropped her gaze to the floor.
Jesse laughed and Amanda hit him.
"Ow."
"The Northern Cascades?" Steve's voice went up an octave with the question. "Jesus, Liv! That's almost in Canada! Why did you have to go so far away?"
"I needed to think."
Steve just glared at her for a moment. Then he asked, "What in the hell did you have to think about that required you to run all the way to effing Canada?"
Her lower lip trembled but she didn't answer.
"I want an answer."
"Steve," Mark said.
"No, Dad, I *deserve* an answer."
Olivia gulped and tried to explain. "It's more than I can say, Steve, but while I was gone, I started missing you, and I knew it was time to come home. And, well, this is home."
Steve continued to glare at her.
"Steve, don't you understand? For the first time in twelve years, home is the place where I live, not the place I ran away from."
He sighed.
"That's because you're here, Steve." Looking around to include Mark, Jesse, and Amanda, she said, "All of you, really."
His demeanor softening, he nudged her off his lap and stood up. "I'm not mad any more, but we need to have a long talk right now about what we expect from each other because I never want to worry this much again."
"Ok."
He held out his arms offering a hug and said, "I am so glad you're home."
She accepted the hug, and he picked her up. She wrapped herself around him like a koala in a eucalyptus tree. As they headed for the bedroom, Mark called after them, "I guess we'll clean up in here, then, uh, we'll see ourselves out."
Steve called back, "Don't go anywhere, Dad, we just need a few minutes."
Olivia giggled as he carried her back the hall, through the living room, and into the bedroom. She unwound herself when he sat her on the bed.
"Steve, your dad, Jesse, and Amanda are here."
"So?" he said, "It's your house."
She giggled again and purred, "I suppose it is."
Though it took all his self-control, he stopped her busy hands from undoing his jeans. She looked at him askance, and he explained, "Tempting though it may be, I did not bring you back here to make love."
"Oh." Disappointment was plain in her voice.
"We need to talk."
She sighed and nodded, moved some pillows to make room for herself against the headboard, and sat cross-legged, waiting.
Steve sat beside her, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and put his arm around her shoulders. He took a deep breath, not sure where to begin. Finally, he said, "I'm glad you've started to think of this place as home. We all want you to feel like part of the family."
She smiled.
He thought a minute, and then said. "But that kind of relationship comes with certain responsibilities that you haven't been living up to lately."
She cocked her head, drew her eyebrows together, stuck her lip out in a pout, and waited for him to continue. Steve felt like he was talking to a cat. Olivia could be so expressive in her silence, and so terribly frustrating. He smiled as he remembered the first time they'd made love and how her freckles had made him think of a leopard.
"I need to know that you are safe, and that you are happy, and that you are with me. What you said about this place being home now has reassured me that you won't leave, and given my history with women, that in itself means more than you could imagine."
The Sphinx finally spoke. "Jesse, Amanda, and Mark have told me. They wanted make sure I understood that I had better not play around with your feelings. They're very protective of you."
Steve grinned. "Sometimes too protective." He paused a beat, then, "I know, now, that even if you have to go away for a while, you'll be back. That makes me feel a lot safer in this relationship."
"Then what's the problem, Steve?"
"I need to know why you had to leave. What was on your mind that was so huge you had to go all the way to Canada to think about it? Could I have done anything to help?"
"I explained it all in my letter."
"Which I never saw."
"True. It's hard to put into words."
"Try, Liv. I need to know."
She hung her head and watched her hands as they fidgeted with each other.
"I…got scared."
"Of what?"
"Of you."
"Me? Why?"
"Because…I love you. I…need you."
He rubbed her shoulders and drew her closer to him. "Sweetie, I still don't get it. Can you explain a little more?"
She sighed, "I'll try. Let me think."
They were quiet for a while, then she began again.
"Do you know why I asked you to come to Dr. Gregg's office with me?"
"You said it was because you wanted me to understand what it takes for you…to be the cheerful, pleasant person you are most of the time."
She nodded, "That was only part of it. I needed to know that you'd be there for me while I face my demons. I *needed* you there, Steve, and that's what frightened me. I'm so vulnerable in therapy, and that day I gave you something of myself that I can't ever take back. I was afraid of what you might do with it. I was terrified of showing you that part of me, but I still needed you there. Because I love you."
Steve was hurt that she didn't trust him, but he put it aside, hoping he could get more out of her.
"Olivia, I love you, too, and would never hurt you. You can trust me."
She sniffed, teary, but not quite crying.
"I do trust you, to be kind and gentle and decent and loyal and protective and honorable. But I don't trust love."
Now Steve was really confused. "What do you mean, you 'don't trust love'?"
"Think about my life, Steve. My granddad loved me, and he almost beat me to death. Mama loved me, and she let him do it. Daddy and Mama and the boys and Beth all loved me, and all left me. Ted and Keith loved me, and you know what a mess that turned out to be."
She shifted position, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head against his chest. She just listened to his heartbeat for a long time. Steve could feel her gently tapping the rhythm against his ribs.
Finally, she spoke again.
"This is what I trust. This moment. Your heartbeat, the rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your body against mine, the scent of sun and sea that clings to you. I trust you, here with me, now. But love?"
Her voice wavered for a moment, then she continued. "I can't depend on love, Steve. Life has taught me two things about love. It hurts you and then it leaves you. Those are awfully hard lessons to unlearn."
For several moments, Steve just rubbed her back wondering what to do next. Then his eyes fell on the Bible she kept on the nightstand and an idea struck him. He wasn't a terribly religious man, but he had learned his catechism as a boy, and he still attended mass on occasion. Some things he'd learned had touched him deeply, and he still carried those lessons with him. Somewhere years ago, he'd read a passage that might help now. He asked, "Would you let me try to teach you about a different kind of love?"
He felt her nod against his chest.
Taking the Bible, he turned to the table of contents. He knew the book, chapter, and verse he was looking for, but wasn't sure where it was. It took a moment, but he found the passage. Hoping he wouldn't seem like a hypocrite to her, he began reading:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
She rolled over and looked up at him. He was relieved to see her smile. "I Corinthians 13:4-8. From the New International Version."
He double-checked her citation. "Yeah."
"I've never known that kind of love, never expected to."
"Neither have I, until now, Liv. I learned this passage as a boy, and I still think it's beautiful. I saw it in a greeting card once and realized it would be an incredible way to express your feelings for someone, but I didn't buy it for the girl I was dating at the time. I didn't feel that way about her. I feel that way about you, and whether you know it or not, you've shown me the same kind of love. You've shown me what those words mean. Give me the chance to do the same for you."
She nodded. "I'll try, but I don't know if you'll want to take on that kind of responsibility after we go to Pennsylvania. There's so much…junk…in my life. I'm not sure anyone would want to deal with it."
"I want to. I want to be there and face it all with you."
"Are you sure?"
"There's only one way to find out."
"I know. I have two airline tickets for January 31. We'll be there for Groundhog Day."
Steve grinned. "I'll tell the captain tomorrow."
Much later Mark went back to the bedroom to check on them. Steve had left the door partially open, and without thinking, he peeked in. Steve and Olivia lay fully clothed on top of the covers. Her arms were wrapped around his middle, her head resting on his chest. He had one arm around her shoulders and the other resting at his side. She was sleeping soundly, and he was watching her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.
The little tableau made Mark's heart melt. He could remember holding his beloved Katherine like that. He knew in that moment that Steve's destiny was inextricably intertwined with Olivia's. They would each always own a part of the other. Suddenly he felt embarrassed to intrude on such an intimate moment. He went back the hall a few steps and called to his son.
"Steve!"
He pushed the door open and Steve looked up and hushed him.
"Shh, Dad. She's sleeping."
"Oh, sorry," Mark whispered. "Jesse, Amanda, and I are ready to go…unless you want us to wait a little longer."
"No, Dad. That's ok. Thank you…and thank them…for being with me through all of this."
"You're welcome, son."
"Let's all of us have lunch tomorrow. Say noon at the hospital?"
Mark nodded. "I'll mention it to Jesse and Amanda. I'm sure they'll be there. See you tomorrow."
"Ok, Dad. Bye. And have a good night."
"You, too, son."
Steve sprinted to answer the phone before the machine picked up. He wanted it to be Olivia, and couldn't quite keep the disappointment from his voice when Jesse came on the line.
"Hey, Steve," said his way-too-cheerful friend. "How was the first day back at work?"
"Oh, hi, Jess. It was all right."
"Wow." Jesse said in a slightly sarcastic tone, "Calm down and tell me all about it."
Steve smiled into the phone, "Sorry, Jess." He continued lightly. "It was a good day. I caught two easy cases. They were so open and shut I actually had them both wrapped up by the end of the day. I should always be so lucky."
"Steve, that's great!" Jesse cheered, "So why do you sound so disappointed?"
"Well, I was hoping to hear from Liv. She had that appointment with Dr. Gregg today, and I thought she might want to talk to me when it was over."
It had really bothered Steve last week that Olivia had decided she didn't want to see him until after her next therapy session, but she had finally talked with Jesse a little about her past and visits to Dr. Gregg. Now at least Steve had someone with whom to discuss what he had seen and felt. Jesse could help him understand things about therapy he wasn't sure he could talk over with Liv or Dr. Gregg.
"I see," Jesse said thoughtfully. "Steve, she's probably just had a busy day. I'll bet she calls soon."
"Yeah," Steve agreed, "I hope so."
"Look, if she doesn't call before you're ready for bed, why don't you call her? Ask if it's a bad time and if she says yes, apologize, and say goodnight. If she says no, tell her about your day, and ask if she wants to talk about hers."
"That sounds like a plan, Jess, thanks."
"Any time, bro."
Steve smiled slightly.
"Uh, Jess," he said tentatively.
"Yeah?"
"Have you seen her since Thursday? How's she doing?"
He heard the laugh in Jesse's voice.
"We had lunch today, Steve. She seemed a little preoccupied, but otherwise all right. Why?"
"Well, I was wondering…does she miss me?"
This time Jesse laughed out loud.
"She was hoping you had a good day and was looking forward to seeing you tonight. You're all she talked about. She said how proud she was of you, how relieved she was that you were ok with her going to therapy, how excited she was to be seeing you again today, and how hopeful she was that everything would work out between you two. In fact, you were so much the topic of conversation that I started to get bored."
"Jess!" Steve groaned in frustration. "It isn't funny."
Jesse laughed again.
"Yes it is, Steve. You are all tied up in knots about her, and it really is too funny." When he stopped laughing, he continued. "Seriously, though. I know that at lunch she was planning to drop in at your place. If she doesn't show, something probably came up and you should give her a call, ok?"
"Ok, Jess, and uh, thanks for the advice."
"Sure thing, man. Thank you for the laugh."
"Good bye, Jess."
With a chuckle he said, "Bye, Steve."
At ten thirty that evening, Steve left a third message on Olivia's machine.
"Liv, it's Steve again. I've tried the hospital, your cell phone, and your pager. I'm getting worried. Jesse said you were planning to come by this evening. I'm on my way over to your place. If you get this message before you see me, call my cell number. If you don't want to talk, that's all right. I just want to know you're ok."
He hung up with a sigh and bounded up the stairs to let his dad know what he was doing.
Steve let himself in to Olivia's house at ten past eleven. There was no sense of it being occupied. He began to grow suspicious. He used his pen to flip the light switch, instinctively knowing he would be dusting for prints later. Something was definitely wrong.
With his heart in his throat, he inspected the premises. The doors were locked, and there was no sign of forced entry, but as he went from room to room, he noticed things missing. Her magazines were gone from the coffee table, and her robe no longer hung in the bathroom. In the bedroom, her overnight bag was missing, along with her sleeping bag, one of the pillows from the bed, and her pajamas. The alarm clock was also turned off. In the kitchen, the refrigerator was nearly empty, and most notably, the keys to the Mercedes were gone from their hook by the kitchen door.
She had apparently left without calling him.
He went to the answering machine and hit the playback button. The only messages on it were his own. He hit the save button anyway. Maybe some clue he was not yet aware of would appear later. Where had she gone and why?
All the plants in the mudroom were freshly watered, and the house was strangely cold. A quick check of the thermostat showed the heat was set at fifty degrees. He went to the breaker box and found that she had shut off the power to the water heater. She clearly planned to be gone a while.
Great.
As he turned from the breaker box something…or rather the lack of something…caught his eye. There was an empty space in Olivia's gun cabinet. A rifle usually sat there. Olivia once told him it was the same gun her grandfather had used to commit suicide. She knew it was odd to keep it, but she'd said it was one of the only things she had inherited from her father's family.
Oh, dear God.
He ran through the house frantically calling her name, hoping he was wrong, praying she'd be there. He got no answer.
Taking out his cell phone, he called his dad.
"Dad, it's Steve."
"Hey son, did you find Olivia?"
"No, Dad, she didn't call, did she?"
"Haven't heard from her. What's wrong, Steve?"
Steve was shaking with fear; so, he sat down to explain everything.
He finished by asking, "Do you think she might be planning to kill herself? I know Jesse said she was excited to see me, but she was also preoccupied. I know suicidal people sometimes seem really happy once they've…made the decision."
"Steve, calm down. I don't think you have enough evidence to make that assumption."
"But, Dad, why else would she take the rifle, especially that particular one? She has two others in the cabinet."
"What makes you think she took it, son? For all you know she could have sold it weeks ago," Mark reasoned.
"No, Dad, it was her grandfather's. She'd never sell it."
"Then maybe it's being cleaned or repaired," Mark suggested.
"It was in perfect working order, and she knows how to maintain it herself. She wouldn't let anyone else touch it. Dad, I'm afraid she's in trouble."
There was a moment's silence, then, "What do you want me to do, son?"
"I'm going to call Jesse and Amanda and find out if she said anything to either of them to indicate what she was thinking. I need you to call Dr. Gregg and do the same."
"Steve, anything said in therapy is kept in strictest confidence."
"I know, Dad," Steve agreed, "but I also know that when a therapist believes a life is at stake, he is released from that confidentiality at least as far as necessary to help protect the life at risk. Call him. Please?"
"Ok, son. Then I'll come meet you at Liv's, in case she comes home."
"Actually, Dad, I'd prefer you stay there, in case she calls. If she's in trouble, I don't want her to get a machine."
"Good point. Ok, I'll get back to you soon."
"Thanks, Dad. Call me back on Olivia's phone. I doubt she'll be trying to call her own number. Bye."
After he called Jesse and Amanda, he called the station and initiated a missing persons report. Contrary to popular belief, there was no specified waiting period before Olivia would be officially considered missing, but, given she was an adult, it would be a couple days before LAPD took the matter seriously. Most of the time people reported missing less than twenty-four hours after their disappearance just showed up on their own with some explanation or another. Most of the time, though, those people didn't have her history of depression and suicidal behavior.
He shut off that line of thinking as fast as it started. He couldn't help her if he worried about things he couldn't control. He had to find her before she did it. That was the only way.
He put out an alert on the Mercedes. If it showed up anywhere, he'd have a lead to follow.
Then he settled back to wait. For his dad to call. For Olivia to walk in healthy and safe. For a detective from missing persons to show up. For someone to call about the car. And his guts burned with acid.
It was after midnight when the phone rang. Steve jumped to answer it, but caught himself before he grabbed the receiver, and picked it up carefully between his thumb and forefinger, using a tissue to avoid leaving prints.
"Hello? Liv?"
"No, Steve, it's Dad."
"Oh. What did Dr. Gregg say?"
"Well, he was not happy about being disturbed to say the least. It amazes me that a man who helps people deal with their emotions could have so much anger."
"Dad," Steve interrupted impatiently, "what did he say?"
"He wouldn't say much, Steve. Just that he didn't think she was depressed or suicidal. He was offended that I would ask and he was shocked that I might think he'd let her leave if she were so unstable. She did, however, cancel her next appointment. If you want anything more, you'll have to get a warrant. Those are his words, not mine."
"Just great, Dad!" Steve snapped. "It's been over an hour and that's all you could get me?"
Mark was apologetic.
"I did my best, Steve. We argued for quite some time. I even threatened his job. All he would say is that he doesn't believe she's in any danger. I'm sorry I couldn't do better."
Steve sighed. "I know, Dad. I'm sorry I yelled at you, I'm just so worried."
"Son, she has a habit of running when life gets too intense. Do you think-- "
"No, I don't," Steve interrupted. "She'd have said something."
"Then could it be something else, Steve?"
"Like what?"
"Well, she is quite wealthy. Maybe there'll be a ransom demand."
"Kidnappers generally don't give you time to pack, Dad."
"But if it's someone from her past who knows her habits…"
Steve finished the thought, "They might want us to think she was running to give themselves more time to get away."
"That's a possibility."
"Oh, God, Dad. What if it's Ted? The guy who tried to kill her? What if he's out?"
"Steve, she's survived so much. She'll hang on until we can find her. Given the possibilities, where do we start?"
Steve thought for just a moment.
"Change the pickup message on the machine. Make it tell Olivia to call my cell collect. Have Jesse and Amanda do the same and tell them to get over here. Then go to the hospital and get someone to get you her personnel file. I don't care if you have to wake someone at home to come in and do it. Once you have the file, come on over to her house. I'm going to call the precinct and get someone over here now. Then I'm going to call Pennsylvania to see if Ted is out after which I plan to break into her filing cabinet to see if there are any financial records or other papers that might help us locate her."
"Right," Mark agreed. "By then we should be able to start making a list of possible suspects."
"Dad, I have a bad feeling about this."
"I know, son, but try not to worry. Olivia's tougher than you think. She'll probably come through this…whatever it is…better than the rest of us."
"I hope you're right. Thanks, Dad."
"Yep. See you soon."
"Right. Bye."
Steve sighed as he let himself into Olivia's house. The smell of lavender was growing fainter every day. She'd been missing a week, and every lead had dried up. He'd been staying at her house in case she came home, and he'd noticed his Dad, Jesse, and Amanda had been taking turns staying with him. He appreciated their thoughtfulness, but didn't really feel it was necessary. He just didn't have the heart to ask them to stop.
At first, he and his dad and friends had been considered suspects in the possible kidnapping. Steve knew it was standard procedure, but it still stung. Fortunately, it didn't take much to convince Detective Simmons, the primary investigator on the case, that they weren't involved. The captain had given Steve time off knowing that he would unofficially investigate Olivia's disappearance. He said as much, and made Steve give his word that he would inform Simmons of anything he might discover.
Thankfully, Ted was still in prison, but the initial list of suspects was enormous. In the file cabinet, Steve had found a ledger filled with names of several hundred people who owed Olivia money. For most people it was a few thousand or tens of thousands of dollars, but some owed as much as several hundred thousand. In all, nearly five million dollars had been repaid over the years, but nearly eight and a half million was still owing.
Steve managed to track down her accountant, a Mr. Meyer Goldstein, in Pennsylvania, and found there was another ledger of loans that had been paid in full. All of the loans were interest free. Olivia had helped families all over the country salvage bankrupt farms and businesses. She had helped educate hundreds of children, and she had financed public works from sewage treatment plants to community centers in several small towns. Steve was stunned to find that between the liens she held against various properties and the money she had invested in diverse corporations, small businesses, and projects, Olivia was worth somewhere in the neighborhood of ninety million dollars.
He smiled. She certainly wasn't interested in him for his money. He wondered how she had come by such wealth.
Anyone owing Olivia money and anyone who knew she was wealthy had been a suspect. Mr. Goldstein had insisted that none of the people in the ledger would have harmed Olivia. He swore they all loved her and were grateful for her help. Nevertheless, he had been a huge help in locating them. He had all the addresses in the billing program on his computer and had e- mailed the file to Steve. For three days, police in twelve states and three European countries had been checking alibis.
Through her personnel file, and several interviews with Davis, Mark had tracked down many of Olivia's former acquaintances from previous jobs. While there were some who did not appreciate her direct approach to problems and her total intolerance for fools and hypocrites, none of them seemed likely to abduct her. The few Mark had suspected had ironclad alibis.
The list of angry patients was blessedly short, a testament to Olivia's caring nature and remarkable talent. Nothing panned out there either.
No name had risen to the top of the list.
Friday morning they met for breakfast at BBQ Bob's and started fresh. Who hadn't they talked to? As one, Steve, Mark, Jesse, Amanda, Detective Simmons, and Davis all said the same name.
"Carolyn Green."
"I thought you were going to talk to her Tuesday," Steve said to Simmons.
"I was, but she wasn't home when I called so I left a message. Then we had so many other leads to investigate I never got the chance to follow up."
"All it takes is a damned phone call, Simmons," Steve scolded.
"Look, Sloan," Simmons countered, "Tuesday morning we had a lot of other more likely suspects. Should I have let them go to track down a secretary?"
"No, but you should have made the f--"
"Steve," Mark interrupted before he could curse the other detective again, "any of us could have reminded him or made the call ourselves. At the time there seemed to be more important matters to attend to."
Steve bit the inside of his cheek in thought for several moments before he released his anger.
"You're right, Dad. Simmons, I'm sorry. Now we have to find Ms. Green."
"It's all right, Sloan. I know this has been hard on you." He extended his hand to Steve, and Steve shook it.
"Let's go find the secretary," Simmons said.
"Right. I have her address," Steve agreed.
Carolyn wasn't at her apartment when they got there, so Steve and Simmons split up and started questioning the neighbors. Half an hour later, they met back at the car. Steve had turned up nothing, but Simmons was grinning like the Cheshire cat.
"What have you got, Simmons?"
Simmons' grin widened.
"It seems our Ms. Carolyn Green has a convenient arrangement with an elderly neighbor, Mrs. Gladys Warren, in which Carolyn gets home-cooked meals several days a week in return for helping Mrs. Warren with housework."
"And?" Steve prodded.
"And Carolyn came for dinner on Monday as usual, but told Mrs. Warren she'd be out of town for the next week or so. Dr. Regis had given her a one-week bonus and told her to take a vacation. She's gone to Cancun."
"Did Carolyn happen to mention where Olivia was going?"
"Nothing specific as far as Mrs. Warren can recall, but she did say Carolyn mentioned that Dr. Regis was excited about 'playing in the snow.' She's probably going to the mountains."
"Good work, Simmons! Now we can limit our search to places in the mountains that were accessible to the Mercedes on Monday. Between weather and traffic reports we have a chance of finding Liv again."
Just then, Simmons' cell phone rang.
"Detective Simmons…Uh-huh…Uh-huh…Oh, hell…"
Steve felt his guts twist.
Simmons continued his conversation, "Was she alone…Ok…For how long…Do we have the plates…and there's an alert out on the new vehicle…Good….Give me the phone number and address just in case."
As Simmons wrote, Steve prayed silently, "Please don't let it be a body."
"Yeah," Simmons said, "He's right here...She did…Crap…I'll tell him…Thanks…Bye."
"What is it?" Steve asked, steeling himself for the worst.
"They've found Dr. Regis' car at a rental place up in Redding. A woman matching her description left it early Tuesday morning. She rented an SUV on her visa card, and paid a week in advance. The clerk noticed she had a rifle and very few provisions. I suppose she could have been planning to stop before she got where she was going. Until that SUV turns up, we're stuck. I'm sorry, Steve."
Steve nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Simmons had said, "I'm sorry." That's what homicide cops said to the next of kin when they were delivering a death notice.
He got into the car and slammed the door. Simmons climbed in the driver's side and said, "Now what?"
"Take me to Olivia's place. I'll wait for her there."
Carolyn Green had come back Sunday night. Simmons had checked the airports and found she had purchased a ticket to Cancun just like Mrs. Warren had said. He asked a regular patrol to watch for her, and when she arrived, they called him. She showed him the note Olivia had left her the past Monday. It was in Olivia's handwriting and explained that she was taking a week off. Olivia had suggested that Carolyn do the same and had provided her the funds to do so.
Now it was Monday evening. Steve was alone in Olivia's house. Had she run away or killed herself? Would he ever know?
He got himself a beer and went into the living room to sit on the couch. He allowed himself to sink into despair.
What could be so terrible about him that every woman he'd ever loved turned out to be crazy, criminal, married, or ended up dead? Why didn't he deserve someone to love him? And where the hell had Liv gone? She could have at least said goodbye. He didn't know what would be worse, finding out she was dead or that she had left him or never hearing anything more about her. He was so lost in thought he didn't hear Jesse come in.
"Jeeze, Steve, you look like hell." Jesse gently slipped the beer from his hand. "How many?"
Steve didn't protest, he just said, "That's the first."
Jesse put the bottle on the coffee table, and Steve snapped, "Use a coaster, dammit!"
Jesse found one on an end table and placed it under the beer. Then he sat beside his friend and put an arm around his shoulders. Steve felt bad for snapping at Jesse, but he didn't have the energy to apologize.
"Have you eaten today?"
Steve shrugged.
"I didn't think so. Your dad and Amanda are on the way with some groceries. We're all going to have dinner here, and we're going to make sure you eat. Then your dad's going to take you home and put you to bed."
"No, Jess."
"Yes, Steve." Jesse gave him a comforting squeeze around the shoulders. "She'll come home or she won't. Making yourself sick over it won't change a thing."
Steve shrugged again. There was a knock, and Jesse got the door. Steve heard himself being discussed as if he wasn't even there. He didn't care.
"How is he, Jess?"
"Depressed, Amanda. Really depressed."
His dad must have seen the beer on the table because he asked, "He's been drinking?"
"He says it's his first one, and I believe him. He doesn't seem to be drunk, just really down. I don't know how he's going to get through this, Mark."
"Well, he's going to start with a good meal and a decent night's sleep in his own bed. Then we'll see."
Amanda sat with Steve and made small talk while Mark and Jesse cooked. He tried to respond to her amusing anecdotes, but he had no sense of humor. The smells from the kitchen were heavenly, but Steve had no appetite. When Mark called everyone to the table, Amanda got up and motioned him to follow her, but Steve just waved her off. Moments later his dad came into the living room.
"You have to eat, son."
He shrugged yet again. "Not hungry, Dad."
"I know. You're depressed." With a gentle smile, Mark added, "That's the only time you quit eating."
"Please, Dad, just leave me the hell alone."
Mark sat on the coffee table to look him in the eye. He'd never seen Steve so torn up inside. To a stranger he might seem to be holding together remarkably well, but Mark knew better. Steve was holding in so much fear and anger, the only hint that this wasn't just another case was his frequent use of profanity. Mark had first noticed it the day Steve cursed Detective Simmons out when they realized no one had talked to Carolyn Green.
"Son, listen to me." Mark took a deep breath, knowing he was wading into dangerous waters, but hoping he could make Steve let some of his emotions go. "If Olivia has done herself…some injury, worrying yourself sick won't help her. If she has just run off, she isn't worth all this worry."
Enraged, Steve heaved himself off the couch.
"She's worth all of it and a thousand times more!" He yelled at his dad. "She saved my life, dammit, and I wanted to spend the rest of it with her. I'm in love with her like no woman I've ever known." His rage was quickly turning back to despair. He started to weep.
"Oh, God, Dad, where'd she go?" Steve's voice was choked with fear. "Why did she leave? What did I do wrong? Could I have prevented it?"
Mark stood and wrapped his arms around his son.
"Shh, Steve, it's ok. I don't know where she could be or why she left, but I know it was *not* your fault. You've shown her nothing but love, patience, and understanding. Olivia has lots of problems, Steve. If I had thought they were still this serious, I would have warned you off, but I really thought that overcoming them had given her the strength she needed to be good for you. I'm sorry I didn't see this coming. I would have done something if I had."
It was Steve's turn to reassure his father, and he did not miss the opportunity.
"It's all right. You couldn't have known, Dad. I didn't see it. Dr. Gregg didn't either. I just wish we had a body or at least a goodbye."
"I was awfully fond of her, son. You know that?"
"I know, Dad. Me, too."
Jesse and Amanda had come into the room to lend their friends support. They embraced father and son in a circle of friendship and joined them in their grieving. They stood together, in Olivia's living room, enveloped in the fading scent of lavender, for several minutes.
Amanda heard a noise in the foyer. She looked in that direction expecting to see detective Simmons come in with his daily report. It had been the same for days now. Nothing new. What she saw was quite astounding.
"OOOH, GIRRL!" she squealed and jumped away from her friends.
"AAAGH!" the intruder screamed back as she dropped a backpack and an overnight bag.
Mark, Jesse, and Steve jumped apart.
"LIV!" Steve yelled.
"WHAT?!?!"
A dozen questions flew at her at once. All of them were variations on one of two themes. Finally, Steve condensed them to two simple inquiries.
"Are you ok? And where the *hell* have you been?"
"Language, Steve," she chided him gently.
"Screw my effing language, Liv! I thought you were dead."
She drew herself up to her full height. Even at a mere five feet three inches, she seemed imposing as she said in a lethal tone. "Stop yelling, and *don't* *cuss* *at me*."
In two long strides, Steve stood before her. For a moment, the tension in the room was palpable. Amanda could almost believe the two might come to blows. She knew Steve was angry with her for disappearing, and she realized that Olivia had no idea how worried they all had been. Amanda thought to diffuse the situation, but didn't know what to say.
Then Steve threw his arms around Olivia and started shouting with joy.
"Thank God you're ok, oh, thank God."
Olivia looked over Steve's shoulder to Mark, Jesse, and Amanda. Confusion was plain on her face, but she neither protested nor struggled as Steve swept her off her feet and spun her around the room.
When he finally put her down, they both swayed with dizziness. As Mark and Jesse steadied them, Olivia said, "This is some kind of welcome home party. What's for dinner? It smells great! And, Steve, what do you mean you thought I was dead?"
Before Steve could begin, Mark suggested, "Let's talk about it over dinner."
As Jesse and Amanda served the meal, Mark called Detective Simmons to let him know Olivia was home safe. At Mark's request, he agreed to wait until the next day to get her statement.
Over a filling meal of meatloaf and mashed potatoes with gravy and green beans followed by a triple chocolate peanut butter pie for dessert, they took turns telling Olivia about their search for and fears about her. Steve apologized several times for invading her privacy, but insisted it was necessary.
"It's all right, Steve. But didn't you get my note?"
"What note?"
She patted his hand. "Baby, I couldn't get you on the cell phone, and you weren't at the precinct when I called. I didn't want to just leave a phone message, so I swung by your place on my way out of town and taped a note to your door."
Steve rolled his eyes, "It must have blown off. I never saw it."
After a pause, he said, "Don't you ever dare leave again without telling me in person."
"Steve, sweetie, I'm a grown woman…"
"No, dammit. You don't understand," he interrupted. Then he choked up and hung on the edge of tears for a moment.
After a few deep breaths he continued, "I thought you were never coming back, and I didn't want to go on without you."
"Why did you think I was never coming back, love?"
A deep breath. "You took your granddad's rifle."
Suddenly she understood. She leaped to her feet and came around the table. Throwing her arms around him, she sat across his lap. He began to weep again, and she joined him. They were lost together, but surrounded by friends.
"Oh, my darling, no." She spoke soothingly, interrupting herself often to kiss him. "Oh, no. You have given me so much to live for. You see, I was already dead, but then I met you. I could never, now. You are my life."
She did not realize Steve was growing angry again.
"Then why did you take the rifle, Liv? What did you plan to do with it?"
She drew back, but did not leave his lap.
"I rented a rustic cabin in the mountains. You know the kind of place I'm talking about…woodstove, outhouse, no 'fridge. I figured I'd hunt for my dinner." She smiled. "Did pretty well, too. I had meat every night. Mostly rabbit but I did some fishing, and I bagged a couple of quail."
Steve was unmoved. "Where's this cabin? We looked all over California for you."
"It's in the mountains." She didn't look at him.
"What mountains, Liv?"
"The Northern Cascades." She dropped her gaze to the floor.
Jesse laughed and Amanda hit him.
"Ow."
"The Northern Cascades?" Steve's voice went up an octave with the question. "Jesus, Liv! That's almost in Canada! Why did you have to go so far away?"
"I needed to think."
Steve just glared at her for a moment. Then he asked, "What in the hell did you have to think about that required you to run all the way to effing Canada?"
Her lower lip trembled but she didn't answer.
"I want an answer."
"Steve," Mark said.
"No, Dad, I *deserve* an answer."
Olivia gulped and tried to explain. "It's more than I can say, Steve, but while I was gone, I started missing you, and I knew it was time to come home. And, well, this is home."
Steve continued to glare at her.
"Steve, don't you understand? For the first time in twelve years, home is the place where I live, not the place I ran away from."
He sighed.
"That's because you're here, Steve." Looking around to include Mark, Jesse, and Amanda, she said, "All of you, really."
His demeanor softening, he nudged her off his lap and stood up. "I'm not mad any more, but we need to have a long talk right now about what we expect from each other because I never want to worry this much again."
"Ok."
He held out his arms offering a hug and said, "I am so glad you're home."
She accepted the hug, and he picked her up. She wrapped herself around him like a koala in a eucalyptus tree. As they headed for the bedroom, Mark called after them, "I guess we'll clean up in here, then, uh, we'll see ourselves out."
Steve called back, "Don't go anywhere, Dad, we just need a few minutes."
Olivia giggled as he carried her back the hall, through the living room, and into the bedroom. She unwound herself when he sat her on the bed.
"Steve, your dad, Jesse, and Amanda are here."
"So?" he said, "It's your house."
She giggled again and purred, "I suppose it is."
Though it took all his self-control, he stopped her busy hands from undoing his jeans. She looked at him askance, and he explained, "Tempting though it may be, I did not bring you back here to make love."
"Oh." Disappointment was plain in her voice.
"We need to talk."
She sighed and nodded, moved some pillows to make room for herself against the headboard, and sat cross-legged, waiting.
Steve sat beside her, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and put his arm around her shoulders. He took a deep breath, not sure where to begin. Finally, he said, "I'm glad you've started to think of this place as home. We all want you to feel like part of the family."
She smiled.
He thought a minute, and then said. "But that kind of relationship comes with certain responsibilities that you haven't been living up to lately."
She cocked her head, drew her eyebrows together, stuck her lip out in a pout, and waited for him to continue. Steve felt like he was talking to a cat. Olivia could be so expressive in her silence, and so terribly frustrating. He smiled as he remembered the first time they'd made love and how her freckles had made him think of a leopard.
"I need to know that you are safe, and that you are happy, and that you are with me. What you said about this place being home now has reassured me that you won't leave, and given my history with women, that in itself means more than you could imagine."
The Sphinx finally spoke. "Jesse, Amanda, and Mark have told me. They wanted make sure I understood that I had better not play around with your feelings. They're very protective of you."
Steve grinned. "Sometimes too protective." He paused a beat, then, "I know, now, that even if you have to go away for a while, you'll be back. That makes me feel a lot safer in this relationship."
"Then what's the problem, Steve?"
"I need to know why you had to leave. What was on your mind that was so huge you had to go all the way to Canada to think about it? Could I have done anything to help?"
"I explained it all in my letter."
"Which I never saw."
"True. It's hard to put into words."
"Try, Liv. I need to know."
She hung her head and watched her hands as they fidgeted with each other.
"I…got scared."
"Of what?"
"Of you."
"Me? Why?"
"Because…I love you. I…need you."
He rubbed her shoulders and drew her closer to him. "Sweetie, I still don't get it. Can you explain a little more?"
She sighed, "I'll try. Let me think."
They were quiet for a while, then she began again.
"Do you know why I asked you to come to Dr. Gregg's office with me?"
"You said it was because you wanted me to understand what it takes for you…to be the cheerful, pleasant person you are most of the time."
She nodded, "That was only part of it. I needed to know that you'd be there for me while I face my demons. I *needed* you there, Steve, and that's what frightened me. I'm so vulnerable in therapy, and that day I gave you something of myself that I can't ever take back. I was afraid of what you might do with it. I was terrified of showing you that part of me, but I still needed you there. Because I love you."
Steve was hurt that she didn't trust him, but he put it aside, hoping he could get more out of her.
"Olivia, I love you, too, and would never hurt you. You can trust me."
She sniffed, teary, but not quite crying.
"I do trust you, to be kind and gentle and decent and loyal and protective and honorable. But I don't trust love."
Now Steve was really confused. "What do you mean, you 'don't trust love'?"
"Think about my life, Steve. My granddad loved me, and he almost beat me to death. Mama loved me, and she let him do it. Daddy and Mama and the boys and Beth all loved me, and all left me. Ted and Keith loved me, and you know what a mess that turned out to be."
She shifted position, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head against his chest. She just listened to his heartbeat for a long time. Steve could feel her gently tapping the rhythm against his ribs.
Finally, she spoke again.
"This is what I trust. This moment. Your heartbeat, the rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your body against mine, the scent of sun and sea that clings to you. I trust you, here with me, now. But love?"
Her voice wavered for a moment, then she continued. "I can't depend on love, Steve. Life has taught me two things about love. It hurts you and then it leaves you. Those are awfully hard lessons to unlearn."
For several moments, Steve just rubbed her back wondering what to do next. Then his eyes fell on the Bible she kept on the nightstand and an idea struck him. He wasn't a terribly religious man, but he had learned his catechism as a boy, and he still attended mass on occasion. Some things he'd learned had touched him deeply, and he still carried those lessons with him. Somewhere years ago, he'd read a passage that might help now. He asked, "Would you let me try to teach you about a different kind of love?"
He felt her nod against his chest.
Taking the Bible, he turned to the table of contents. He knew the book, chapter, and verse he was looking for, but wasn't sure where it was. It took a moment, but he found the passage. Hoping he wouldn't seem like a hypocrite to her, he began reading:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
She rolled over and looked up at him. He was relieved to see her smile. "I Corinthians 13:4-8. From the New International Version."
He double-checked her citation. "Yeah."
"I've never known that kind of love, never expected to."
"Neither have I, until now, Liv. I learned this passage as a boy, and I still think it's beautiful. I saw it in a greeting card once and realized it would be an incredible way to express your feelings for someone, but I didn't buy it for the girl I was dating at the time. I didn't feel that way about her. I feel that way about you, and whether you know it or not, you've shown me the same kind of love. You've shown me what those words mean. Give me the chance to do the same for you."
She nodded. "I'll try, but I don't know if you'll want to take on that kind of responsibility after we go to Pennsylvania. There's so much…junk…in my life. I'm not sure anyone would want to deal with it."
"I want to. I want to be there and face it all with you."
"Are you sure?"
"There's only one way to find out."
"I know. I have two airline tickets for January 31. We'll be there for Groundhog Day."
Steve grinned. "I'll tell the captain tomorrow."
Much later Mark went back to the bedroom to check on them. Steve had left the door partially open, and without thinking, he peeked in. Steve and Olivia lay fully clothed on top of the covers. Her arms were wrapped around his middle, her head resting on his chest. He had one arm around her shoulders and the other resting at his side. She was sleeping soundly, and he was watching her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.
The little tableau made Mark's heart melt. He could remember holding his beloved Katherine like that. He knew in that moment that Steve's destiny was inextricably intertwined with Olivia's. They would each always own a part of the other. Suddenly he felt embarrassed to intrude on such an intimate moment. He went back the hall a few steps and called to his son.
"Steve!"
He pushed the door open and Steve looked up and hushed him.
"Shh, Dad. She's sleeping."
"Oh, sorry," Mark whispered. "Jesse, Amanda, and I are ready to go…unless you want us to wait a little longer."
"No, Dad. That's ok. Thank you…and thank them…for being with me through all of this."
"You're welcome, son."
"Let's all of us have lunch tomorrow. Say noon at the hospital?"
Mark nodded. "I'll mention it to Jesse and Amanda. I'm sure they'll be there. See you tomorrow."
"Ok, Dad. Bye. And have a good night."
"You, too, son."