The Forgetful Fiancée

Chapter Seven

Tara spotted the flashing lights behind them at the same time as her driver. The driver cursed under his breath and slowed. "I knew I should have gotten that taillight fixed," he muttered.

Tara knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, who was driving that Colby County cruiser, and writing up a ticket for a broken taillight wasn't his top priority. "It's just my boyfriend," Tara said to the driver. "Ex-boyfriend. Keep driving."

"Are you crazy? I'm not gonna get involved in some crazy chase. Cabbies who do that, they end up on America's Most Dangerous Car Chases." He pulled over to the shoulder and dug around in the glove box for his papers.

Tara slouched down in the seat, knowing she'd brought this on herself. She'd left her flight information right where Kevin would find it. Had she subconsciously done it on purpose? Had she wanted him to chase her down, to prove his love?

Kevin, looking ominous in his khaki uniform, leaned down to speak with the driver. "Evening."

"I know, I got a busted taillight," the driver said as he handed Kevin papers he hadn't asked for. "It's on back order at Jimmy's Auto Supply."

"I believe you, Mr., um, Slater. And I won't write you a ticket. But I can't allow you to continue driving with a malfunctioning light."

"One little taillight?" the driver objected. "Look, I gotta get this lady to the airport."

"It just so happens I'm headed that way. I'll take the lady -"

"You will do no such thing," Tara erupted, unable to keep silent any longer.

"Then you'll sit here on the side of the road until another cab can come get you. If you come with me, you'll make your flight."

"Then what's the point?"

"There's a price to pay. You have to listen to what I have to say. Then, if you still want to return to Chicago, I won't stop you."

Tara sighed. It was as fair an offer as she was likely to get. "Fine," she ground out as she worked at the seat belt that held Andrew's car seat. "But I'm not changing my mind."

A few minutes later they were headed for the airport in Kevin's cruiser. She had paid the cabby, and Kevin had told him he could go, having capriciously decided the bad taillight was no longer a mortal danger to the drivers of Colorado. Now they sat in silence as the lights of Colorado Springs grew closer.

"You'd better start talking," Tara said. "We haven't got much time."

"This is harder than I thought it would be."

"Start with something easy. How did you know Andrew's name?" In the hospital, when she'd realized she didn't even remember her own child's name, Kevin had come up with it. During her cab ride, she'd wondered if he'd had some prior knowledge of the baby.

"It was a logical guess," Kevin answered. "So you really did name him after your father?"

"Yes." Tara was amazed at the accuracy of Kevin's guess. He knew her pretty well. "Let's move on to something harder. Why would you coerce me into marrying you when you don't like children?"

"I never said I didn't like children. I love Andrew."

"Couldn't prove it by the way you treat him."

"I love Andrew," he repeated. "But the fact is…he scares me."

Kevin felt his throat tighten at the mere mention of his phobia. He'd never admitted it to anyone – not his family or friends, not the shrink who saw him after the shooting, and certainly not Tara. But it was time to admit that the events in Chicago had left him changed.

"What do you mean he scares you?" Tara asked, sounding bewildered. "What possible harm could a little baby do to you?"

The cruiser sped past the Colorado Springs city limits sign. Kevin realized he didn't have that much time. He had to screw up his courage and tell her what had happened that day.

"It's not the harm he could do to me," Kevin said. "It's what I could do to him."

Tara shifted uneasily. "You'd better explain."

"That night in Chicago when we broke up… You were coming over to tell me you were pregnant – is that right?"

"Yes. I tried to ease my way into the subject. But at the mere mention of children, you went ballistic. You said you never wanted children, that the very idea made you nauseous. Do you blame me for not telling you that you were going to be a father?"

"No, I guess not. But I wasn't in my right mind that day. Something had happened on my shift, something… Tara, I killed a kid."

"What?" For the first time since he'd caught up with her, she didn't sound quite so mad.

"A little girl named Marvella White."

Kevin waited to see if the name rang a bell with Tara. The story had made the evening news, but in a city that had become numb to killing, the headlines about Marvella had quickly given way to some new tragedy.

"Marvella White was that little girl killed by her father," Tara said. "Right? What does that have to do with you?"

Kevin gripped the steering wheel harder. "I could have saved her. Instead I let her drugged-up old man blow her away."

Tara gasped. She couldn't help it. "You were there?"

"I was the first officer on the scene. A neighbor had called, said it was a domestic disturbance. I didn't know till I got there that some crazy S.O.B. was waving a gun, his wife screaming, pleading with him to put it down, two little kids cowering under a table.

"I called for back-up, but meanwhile I had to do something. So I tried talking to the guy. He said he was going to kill his wife. So I told him to think about his children – did he want them to grow up without a mother?

"The guy said, 'Why do I care? They're not my kids.' Then he turned his gun on little Marvella and shot her in the chest, just like that."

"Oh my God." Tara had had no idea. Why hadn't he told her what had happened? If she'd known, she would have made some allowances. Instead she'd been focused on her problems.

"I subdued the guy, and then I tried to stop Marvella's bleeding." He stopped, swallowed thickly. "She died in my arms."

"And you think this was somehow your fault?"

"It was my fault, damn it. I didn't know a damn thing about hostage negotiations. I had no business trying to reason with a guy who was high on PCP. All I did was provoke him."

"You did what you thought was right at the time. No one can say what he might have done if you hadn't talked to him. He might have killed them all, and you, too."

"That was what the board of inquiry said. But tell that to Marvella's mother, and her brother. All I know is when I lost her, I felt responsible. And I never wanted to feel that way again. I never wanted anyone to trust me with a child's life, in any capacity. The responsibility is just too huge."