Page 21 of Devoted

The doctor takes a controlled, deep breath. It seems I'm getting to her. She sure as hell is getting tome.

"What is your decision?" Iask.

"We want you to keep clear of Tennyson while she is attending the sessions with Dr. Renfrew and Mr. Winter," Clark blurts fast, apparently thinking I'll have lessreaction.

"Why?"

"It's for her well-being and to ensure that she gets smoothly through this transitional period." Dr. Renfrew sits back and places her hands with finality in her lap signaling it's not up fordebate.

I'm done talking to the stone faced doctor and her sidekick. I look straight at Clark. He is having a tough time doing the same back. Instead he focuses on his guests. He puts on a polite smile that looks more like a grimace. "Dr. Renfrew, Mr. Winter, thank you for your help with this. I'd like to talk to the detective alone, if you don't mind. We'll start first thingMonday."

Winter is happy enough to leave, but Renfrew sticks around for a few more seconds to add her unnecessary two bits. "Remember, Miss Tennyson's well-being must be a priority. She's been through alot."

I stare at her, not saying a word, but letting her know that no one cares more about Ten's well-being than me. She brushes invisible lint off her pressed pants and gets up. Clark walks her to the door and then shuts it. I brace for him to come at me with both barrelsblazing.

Instead, he sits calmly in a chair across from me. He's holding his voice steady, but I know it's taking all his effort. If there's one thing Clark loves it's a good yell. Especially when it's directed at me. "Look, I know this came as a shock to you, but like Renfrew said we need to keep Ten's well-being apriority."

"You're talking to the guy who just spent months looking for her to make sure she was all right. You're the one who sent her on the assignment. So don't fucking talk to me about her well-being. And since when am I considered an obstacle to that when you know damn well I'd take a fucking bullet forher."

"You're not an obstacle, Maddox. You're just—look, you two have a complicated relationship. She needs to focus on getting back to a hundred percent. That team of experts who just left here will make sure she peels away any of the heavy stuff left behind from her months ofcaptivity."

I sit forward. My fist comes down on the table before I can stop it. "I need to be there for her. Those two big shots can do whatever their fucking thing is but it has nothing to do with my relationship withTen."

It's Clark's turn to make some noise. He shoves one of the rolling chairs across the room. It bounces off the projector cart. "I've got my head on a chopping block right now. I'm fielding calls every day from the higher ups who want to know exactly how one of my undercover officers ended up with an expensive trip to rehab and indefinite paid leave!" So much for his volume control. His thunderous voice is catching the attention of people in the outer office. He waves the curious onlookers angrily past and lowers his voice. "They want a full report of what came out of the undercover operation to justify the huge cost of sending in the second undercover agent. And guess what I've got?" He sits forward and rubs his face. "Nothing. I've got nothing. Less than nothing. My two best detectives have gone from two focused, smart ass, damn good cops to one frail, underweight woman, who is still reeling from her time underground, and her partner, who is so fucking obsessed with the whole damn case he can't focus on his job. And he's become an even bigger asshole than normal, which is really sayingsomething."

I try the less asshole-ish approach. I sit forward. "Look, Captain, I know you stuck your neck out plenty these last few months. That's why you're a good leader. You're a risktaker."

Clark puts up his hand. "No, stop right there, Maddox. Women might think butter melts in your mouth, but I don't fall for those sparkly green eyes. I'm ordering you to stay clear of Detective Angie Tennyson until further notice. And if you don't like that order, you can just transfer to a different damnprecinct."

My insides turn to ice as I try and absorb the reality of not seeing Tennyson until people, complete strangers, deem it safe. That ice has penetrated my veins. My voice is low and unfamiliar. "I just spent months worrying about her night and day, not know if I was ever going to see her again. Now you are banishing me from herlife."

"It's just for few weeks, a month tops," he saysquickly.

"One favor, since you've just sent a blade through myheart."

Clark rolls his eyes. "Boy oh boy, never thought I'd see James Maddox like this. But I guess Tennyson is not just any woman. Whatfavor?"

"Let me tell her. I'll go see her tonight and let her know. Just one last visit before we're cut off. You've got to let me have that at least,Cap'n."

Clark sighs with resignation. "Maybe those sparkly green eyes work on me more than Irealize."

I hop up. "Thanks, Clark. Big softy. But I'm still mad as hell about this wholething."

"Yeah, well get in line behind me," he calls as I walk out of the meetingroom.

14

Angie

The beach houseis cozy during the warmth of the day, but the ancient furnace in the front room is no match for the cold, salty air that permeates the walls at night. I pull the plaid blanket tighter around my shoulders. I don't know Uncle Nate but I feel close to him after spending so much time wrapped in his couchblanket.

I typeJeff TurnbillandGreenfield Californiainto the search bar but pause before hitting enter. I stare out at the blackness. The sun-filled, snow white sand and azure blue ocean have disappeared, leaving only a mass of gray bordered by endless blackwater.

I turn back to the monitor and adjust it so I can see more than just my own reflection, a pitiful sight at that, with my red hair curling and cresting in every direction. At least some of the color has returned to my face, and the dark circles are all but gone. Without any more time to think about it, I click enter. I get entries with the name and with the city but nothing connected. I click on a few of the entries with Jeff Turnbill. There's an older attorney near the town of Greenfield with the matching name, but that's about the closest thing I can find for amatch.

I click on a site that a realtor has put together touting the desirable attributes of Greenfield. It's a typical Northern California town with plenty of green landscape from rain and small town shops and restaurants. I scroll down and see that the high school for the town is named after the town founder, who, oddly enough, is not named Greenfield. Arthur P. Moore founded Greenfield in 1908. He was a logger who eventually owned a massive sawmill. The realtor notes that Moore High School is a California Distinguished School that has sent many athletes to college with scholarships. Football is their claim to fame but they also have a competitive swim and dive team. Dive team. The pool area. The chaise lounge. Kane acting unusually normal. It alarms me at how instantly I'm transported back to my time in Lace Underground and how quickly my body reacts to those memories. This one, in particular. On the night with Kane by the pool I'd skipped the nectar to keep my wits about me while swimming with the other women. But that social event was cut short when Kane walked into the vast room that housed the Lace Underground pool. He quickly dismissed all the women, except me. He was in a rare, convivial mood. Rather than the usual wall slamming sex, it felt as if we were two people passionately making love. No leather shackles or sex toys. Just pure sex. That night we even talked, like two people connected in a relationship, albeit a bizarre one. Kane did something highly unusual. He opened up a tiny bit about his past, about there being too many terrible memories and a few good memories, like his glory days on the high school diving team. He'd even performed cliff diving shows in Mexico during his summer breaks. It was an unusual talent and one I never would have matched to him. But maybe that unique talent would help me find a match on theinternet.

I type Moore High School, Jeff Turnbill, diving team into the search bar and hit enter. The first entry sucks the breath from me. It's a headline from the Greenfield paper.Turnbill takes Moore dive team to thefinals.

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