"Are you sure you don't want to wait a day or two?" Catherine asked, pulling into a parking space in front of the Motel 6 off Boulder Highway.
Noticing the thin layer of perspiration covering his skin and his pale complexion, it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him how she thought he still should have been in the hospital but after eight days he'd insisted on discharging himself—because of Ellie. She hadn't come back to the hospital and Catherine knew it had been eating away at him. If Ellie turned him away now, Catherine didn't want to think about what it would do to him.
"No, I have to talk to her before she takes off again."
"You going to be okay? Want me to come with you?"
He opened the Denali door and motioned up with his eyes. "I'll be fine as long as her room isn't up there."
That wasn't entirely what Catherine meant but she didn't elaborate. Instead, she followed his gaze to the third floor. "Yeah, there's no way you're walking up a flight of stairs, much less two, and I'm sure as hell not going to carry you."
"Aw, come on." He flashed her his best puppy dog eyes look.
"That doesn't work on me, Brass."
Chuckling, he started to get out of the truck then hesitated. "Cath, I gotta thank you for taxiing me around but if you got someplace else you need to be…"
"Go on." She rolled down the windows and reclined the seat. "I'll wait." She failed to mention that she was volunteering her time and effort to get him through the next week at least. He'd figure it out soon enough though.
Brass slid off the seat, thankful that it was considerably easier to get out of the vehicle than it had been to climb in, and with his freshly polished badge in hand—thanks to Catherine, slowly walked to the office. He knew where his daughter was staying but he hadn't been able to glean a room number from his source. Initially, the desk clerk had balked at Brass's request for information regarding one of the motel guests but when Jim flashed his badge and his best intimidating glare, the pimple-faced young man behind the counter became uncharacteristically helpful.
Room number 133: the gods had definitely been smiling on Brass today. It was going to be a while before just looking at stairs didn't wind him. Flashing the room number to Catherine with his fingers, he made his way around the gated pool with its decorative yucca plants and palms, carefully avoided two screaming preschoolers hell-bent on the heavily chlorinated water, then knocked forcefully on the metal door. He saw the curtain move slightly then heard someone fumble with the locks.
"Dad?" Ellie blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
He was leaning against the metal railing for support, his left arm immobilized against his chest. Although it was nice to be up and around again, the short walk over had left him breathing heavily and perspiring. However, the worst was that he couldn't seem to stop his knees from shaking. He wasn't sure if that was from being on his feet for the first time in over a week or actually seeing Ellie again.
"I wanted to see you before you left."
"I mean, shouldn't you still be in the hospital or something?" He looked terrible and the sunlight only seemed to emphasize how pale he was.
"They discharged me this morning." Okay, so that was only partly true. He'd gotten the call with Ellie's whereabouts that morning and grew increasingly restless. Although she hadn't returned, the fact was, she did come to the hospital and that had given him renewed hope. He couldn't let her go without seeing her, talking to her. He knew it might end badly, the way it always did, but he had to at least try.
"Probably glad to see you go."
He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah."
She backed away from the door. "Come in. I'm, uh, checking out in a little while so my stuff's all over the place."
He pushed off from the rail and followed her inside. Looking around the cluttered room, the unmade bed, it was obvious she wasn't alone. "Going home?"
"No, I'm heading to California with a friend." She cleared off the chair by the double bed and made a vague motion for him to sit down.
He eased into the chair, wincing at the inevitable pain in his back. After a breathless minute, he asked, "Do I know him?"
She rolled her eyes. "We gonna play this game again? His name is Todd."
As much as he wanted to voice his displeasure, he wasn't there to argue with her. He'd had his brush with mortality and now he needed to make amends. Next time, he might not get a second chance.
Without hesitating, he got to the point. "Is it too late for us, Ellie?"
She didn't answer but she didn't turn away—that was a start. He watched her face carefully, seeing her expression change from exasperation to hurt.
"I don't know."
"I want to make this right between us but you got to talk to me."
She sat on the edge of the bed, absently pulling at the frayed hem of her T-shirt, obviously struggling with her emotions. One part of her still wanted to hate him; another part was tired of the fight. But then she remembered all the times he was never there, all the arguments when he felt guilty and tried to take a sudden interest, questioning her whereabouts and her friends, being overprotective.
Looking up at him, her eyes full of heat and hurt, she asked, "Did you ever look at me, dad?"
"Sure I did. I looked at you all the time."
"No dad. I mean did you ever look at me? Did you ever see me? All I wanted was your attention. When I was a little kid, I idolized you. You were my hero. When I got older, you were giving your attention to someone else's kid, some drug dealer on the street. I figured the only way I'd get your attention was to become one of them."
"Oh, Ellie, you always had my attention. You still do." If he could have moved, he would have been on the bed next to her, hugging her tightly—if she would have let him.
"Yeah, right." She rolled her eyes again. "Where was your attention when I was fourteen and sleeping my way through middle school? Where was your attention when I was scoring drugs and skipping class, spending my days high as a kite? You didn't even notice me, dad. All I ever wanted was for you to notice but you were never there."
He picked at a loose thread on the chair, unable to look at her until he could compose himself. The truth, especially when it pertained to his little girl, hurt more than anything he'd endured over the last week.
"Everything you said, it's all true. I wasn't around much. Your mom and me, we were having problems, you know? I couldn't fix it. Maybe it's a guy thing but I gotta have something I can fix. If I can't fix the problems at home, then I gotta fix the problems at work. And I was having a hard time fixing that too. I was suffocating under the pressure, overwhelmed with my own problems and somehow, I lost sight of you." His voice cracked yet his gaze never wavered from hers. "I wasn't there when you needed me the most. I screwed up, plain and simple. You know it and I know it. I can't change the past. All I can do is try to make things right now but I need you to meet me halfway. We both need to put the past behind us and move on. You got your whole life ahead a you. Don't throw it away on..."
"On what, dad? Don't throw it away on drugs? On guys who don't meet your superior standards? Ever think maybe I'm just trying to find someone like you, daddy? You were such a role model after all. Then I can lecture my kid on all the ways she's fucked up her life every time I get the chance." She was off the bed and standing by the door. "It was a mistake. I never should have gone to see you. It would have been easier if you'd just…" She stopped short, knowing she didn't mean what she was about to say but wanting to hurt him as much as he'd hurt her. And she could tell by the look on his face that she'd done an excellent job.Brass felt like he'd just been punched in the gut. Slowly lifting himself from the chair, he turned towards her. "If I'd just what, Ellie? If I'd just died?"
"I didn't say that." She wished she could take back her words. As much as she wanted to hurt him, that really had been a low blow.
He shook his head and smiled sadly. "You didn't have to." He started for the door only to have her step in his way.
"I'm sorry." She lowered her gaze to the floor, suddenly feeling ashamed. "I didn't mean it."
Brass reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, surprised when she didn't brush it away. "I know you didn't." She always had Nancy's temper; apparently she also had his ex-wife's penchant for cutting him to the quick. But Nancy had never apologized.
The sound of a key in the door interrupted whatever might have come next as Ellie quickly moved away.
"You need to go," she said as the door opened and a twenty-something man in a black T-shirt and faded jeans entered. His gaze shifted from Ellie to Brass then back to Ellie who merely shrugged.
"Who the hell is this guy?"
Brass might have looked pale and unsteady, his edge might have been dulled by pain and fatigue, but his perception was still sharp. And he didn't like what he saw. "You okay, Ellie?"
"I'm fine." She nodded towards Jim. "Todd, this is my dad."
The young man eyed Brass suspiciously. "Your dad, huh?"
"Yeah, Todd, I'm her dad." Brass managed a little defensive posturing and an intimidating glare. However, it did cross his mind that if this guy decided to get pushy, Brass would have a hard time defending himself. Luckily, the glare was enough.
The young man held his hands up as he backed away. "Okay, okay. It's all good."
Ellie leaned against the open door, her body language conveying impatience.
Brass left the room, not turning around as the door slammed shut, and leaned against the railing for support. This time the pain he felt had nothing to do with his injuries and everything to do with Ellie. He'd hoped that after the last time Ellie might have learned something but his instinct told him that Todd, like Keith Driscoll and all the others before him, was nothing but bad news.
Clenching his fist in frustration and anger, beating his hand against his thigh while his gut churned in turmoil, he pushed away from the railing and started back to the parking lot. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew what the future held for his daughter if she stayed on this path. As long as she was out there, he'd always worry that the next call, the next dead girl would be his Ellie.
Experience told him it was only a matter of time.
xx
To be continued in Chapter 8