When the Right One Comes Along

  “That’s unconscionable! I can’t believe she’d do that to you. To the father of her child.”

  Cal had always worried that anyone who knew about Anna’s allegations might judge him or wonder if there was any truth to her claims. Jessica seemed incensed, but he didn’t see the least bit of doubt on her face. He felt immensely relieved—and consoled—to know she believed him and was in his corner. He hadn’t considered how much that would mean to him. The constricting knot in his gut eased some more.

  “She was devious,” he continued. “It wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. She must’ve been planning it for a while, because she had what she presented as evidence. Things like emails supposedly sent from my account to hers.”

  Now he saw a flash of uncertainty in Jessica’s eyes.

  “I know, you’re wondering if I did those things.”

  “No! I’m just curious about how she managed to set you up.”

  “Getting into my personal email account was easy. She knew my password. Perhaps unwise of me, but I used the same password for everything. Anyway, she used fake emails to substantiate her accusations.

  “Even though I maintained my innocence, there was an internal police investigation. That was hard. Domestic violence, and spousal and child abuse are things cops hate, and I was judged by my peers before I had a chance to be proven innocent. In the end, it wasn’t hard to prove that I couldn’t have sent those messages, since I was on shift or on calls with no access to email.”

  Jessica nodded, her expression sympathetic.

  “Worst of all, Anna used the circumstances to bias Haley against me. She made me out to be a monster. Haley was a young and impressionable kid, and with me out of contact with her during the investigation, thanks to a temporary restraining order...” He had to pause again to gather himself as the resentment built. “Well, the police investigation found no evidence of drug use or anything to substantiate her other allegations. I was exonerated, but the process took three months.” His voice cracked and he spread his hands. “Can you imagine how long that is to a four-year-old child? All that time without seeing her father? And the harm a mother can do if she’s so inclined?”

  Jessica shook her head mutely.

  “After three months, my daughter would set eyes on me and burst into tears. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? I was cleared of everything, but there was no undoing the damage. Within the police department, my reputation, which had been as good as gold, was brought into question. Other cops looked at me differently. And Anna’s lies caused Haley to fear me.

  “Even though the allegations were found to be entirely without merit, by the time the custody case went to court, the judge couldn’t ignore Haley’s reaction to me—her tears and obvious distress. So Anna was granted sole custody and given permission to move Haley out of state. I had to comply with the order.”

  “But that was a year ago, correct? Isn’t there anything you can do to overturn the ruling now?”

  Cal sighed. “My lawyer suggested that. That we appeal to have the judgment overturned, but what matters most is how Haley feels about me. She’s lost to me for now. I can see that clearly. I was afraid that any action I took to hold Anna accountable would’ve resulted in a rehash of everything. My first priority was and is my daughter. Whatever Anna’s faults or misguided motivations, she loves Haley... I know what you’re going to say. How can she love Haley and do what she did? I struggled with that, too. But other than that, she is a good mother. I didn’t want to do anything that would cause further harm or compromise an opportunity in the future to get my daughter back in my life.” His voice faltered as he said the last words, and he looked away quickly, out the window and over the dark expanse of water.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “I’M SORRY ABOUT last night,” Cal said to Jessica when he called her at the hospital the next morning.

  “Why are you sorry?”

  “Getting into all that personal history. It was heavy stuff for a first date.”

  “Is that what it was?” He could hear the smile in her voice. “A first date?”

  “Well...yes. I suppose.” He felt flustered, but didn’t mind. She was teasing him and he was enjoying it.

  “I thought you’d want to know that I’m going to have to discharge Kayla.”

  He was immediately concerned about Kayla. “Where will she go? Has there been any progress finding relatives?”

  “Social Services concluded that Kayla’s mother probably entered San Diego illegally from Mexico, which would explain why Kayla has no family on record nor does she have a legitimate US birth certificate.”

  Cal switched the phone to his other ear. He didn’t realize what was on his mind until the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Can she live with me? Either as a foster—or, better yet, can I adopt her?”

  Jessica’s laugh was awkward. “Did you just say what I think you said? Are you serious?”

  Was he serious? Had he considered the huge impact that would have on his social life? He wanted to laugh. What social life? Even if he had one, weigh that against what he could do for Kayla. “Yes.” He thought about what adoption could mean for Kayla and for him. “You heard me correctly. Do you think it’s possible?”

  Jessica’s voice was hesitant. “I don’t know. What you’re suggesting is wonderful, but think it through carefully. It’ll change your life. And it’ll be even harder for you since you’re single.”

  “Kayla’s mother was a single parent and by all accounts a very good one.”

  “If you’re sure, I can put you in contact with the people you’ll need to talk to,” Jessica offered.

  Before they hung up, Jessica gave Cal the contact information for the person at Social Services who was handling Kayla’s case, but he didn’t pursue it. It wasn’t something he wanted to jump into without thinking it through carefully.

  Over the next few days, Cal and Jessica spoke often, mostly about Scout and his care. She’d told him Kayla had been moved to a group home. That made him think again about the possibility of adopting her. It had been on his mind, but he hadn’t come to any decision.

  Soon a week had passed, a week since he’d last seen Jessica, and he was surprised and at times annoyed by how much he wanted to see her. His follow-up hospital appointment was scheduled that afternoon, and he had every intention of stopping in to visit Jessica when he was done. He considered calling her first, but didn’t want to risk her saying she was too busy. He’d take the chance that she’d be available, even if it meant waiting.

  His doctor cleared Cal to go back to work, although with modified duties. He was thrilled at the prospect. He no longer had to use the crutches, but was given a cane. He thanked the doctor and made his way to the trauma unit.

  As it turned out, Jessica was in her office, working on her computer. Cal propped his hands on either side of her doorway and leaned in. She had all that thick straw-colored hair piled on top of her head in some messy arrangement. He hadn’t realized how long and...graceful was the word that came to mind...her neck was. Or how perfect her posture. She sat at her desk, her legs crossed at the ankles, scrolling through images—possibly X-rays from what he could see—on her screen.

  She jumped at his greeting, and swiveled around on her stool, one hand at her throat.

  “You startled me,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I had my checkup and thought I’d let you know the good news. I’m cleared to return to work. Modified duties for a while, but I can go back.”

  Jess rose. “That’s terrific! For both you and Scout.”

  “Yeah. Scout’ll be happy, too. Do you have time for a coffee?”

  “I’d love to, but I’m sorry, no.” She gestured toward the computer behind her. “I have surgery in a little while and I was just reviewing the X-rays.”
>
  Cal straightened. “No problem. I happened to be here, so I thought I’d ask. Would you like to come by after work with Scout?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry again, but I’m on evenings this week.”

  “What about tomorrow before work?”

  “Sure. That’ll work.”

  “See you then, and good luck with the surgery.”

  * * *

  JESSICA ARRIVED AT Cal’s house midmorning. He met her on the front porch as she was getting out of her car.

  “How’s the leg feeling?” she asked, unhooking Scout’s leash to let him run and greet Cal.

  Cal bent down—squatting was still beyond him—to ruffle Scout’s fur. “Better.” He took a few steps, turned and held his arms out to the side. “Ta-da! No crutches!”

  “Do that again,” Jessica instructed. Cal took a few more steps as she watched him with a critical eye. “You still have a limp, not surprisingly, but you’re doing very well. How does it feel when you put weight on the leg?”

  “Tolerable. The doctor said I should be using it as much as I can to prevent atrophy. In fact, you’ll be pleased to know that I think I can handle Scout on my own now. We might not be able to go for runs on the beach just yet, but walking, with or without a cane, isn’t a problem.” Cal wondered if it was regret he saw in Jessica’s eyes as she crouched down to give Scout attention. “You’re going to miss him, huh?”

  She glanced up. Nodded.

  “Do you have time to go for a walk with us?”

  “I don’t have to be at the hospital until this afternoon, although I did want to stop by to see Kayla at the group home on my way in. But a walk would be nice.”

  They strolled along the boardwalk, Scout heeling between them.

  Wispy, gauzy clouds drifted lazily across the blindingly bright sky. A playful breeze sent tendrils of Jessica’s hair dancing. Their progress was leisurely out of respect for Cal’s healing leg as much as to enjoy the beauty of the day.

  Scout became progressively more impatient with their slow pace. Cal knew he associated the beach with fast runs and diving in the surf. Scout needed exercise. Despite Jessica’s best efforts, he hadn’t received the level of activity he was accustomed to. When Cal pulled Scout’s favorite Kong toy out of his pouch, the dog’s entire body quivered with anticipation and he barked excitedly. Cal sent the toy winging through the air and into the water. Scout streaked after it in a blur of motion and cloud of sand.

  They stopped to watch him dive into the shallow surf and resurface with the toy in his mouth. Taking a few steps out of the water, he stopped on the wet sand to shake himself off before sprinting back to Cal and Jessica.

  “How does he do that?” Jessica asked with a laugh.

  Cal shrugged. “I’m not sure. I don’t think he’d be able to see in the foaming surf. Maybe he can still scent the toy despite the water. It’s unerring. He always knows just where it is.”

  After numerous repetitions of that routine, they started walking again. Nose to the ground, Scout ran in a haphazard fashion along the beach.

  “See that?” Cal pointed to the dog. “He’s tracking.”

  Jessica watched with amusement. “But you didn’t tell him to.”

  “I didn’t have to. It’s a game to him. Tracking is so deeply ingrained, he picks a scent and follows it.”

  “Looks like he’s having fun.”

  “Police dogs are working dogs. They might have dangerous jobs—the most dangerous on the force—but they love what they do. It’s a game to them.”

  “Why do you say their jobs are the most dangerous? I would’ve thought it’d be the tactical team or Vice.”

  Cal whistled to Scout to call him back, not wanting him to get too far ahead. “Tactical is a perfect example. The tactical team is dispatched to high-risk situations, but think about what they do, how they do it and how they’re equipped. They have full-body armor, are heavily armed and they minimize risk with every move they make. The K-9 Unit works with the tactical team quite often. For example, we get involved if there’s a dangerous suspect or potential explosives in a building, or a suspect’s escaped and they need to track him. In those situations, we lead the tactical team.

  “Say it’s a case of a dangerous suspect escaping. Scout and I get called in.” Scout was off chasing a scent again and Cal pointed to him. “See what he’s doing there? Nose to the ground, basically at a slow run?”

  Jessica nodded.

  “That’s ideal tracking, when the suspect is ahead of us by some time and distance. If the trail is too fresh, the dog will have his head up, scenting the air. He has a wide swath to cover, maybe twelve to twenty feet in width, because the scent hasn’t settled yet. With time, say, thirty to sixty minutes, and distance, the trail is narrowed and he tracks with his nose to the ground and at a much quicker pace.” He called Scout back again.

  “He can track a single scent an hour later?”

  Cal grinned. “That’s what he’s trained to do. And he can pick it out along a busy sidewalk.”

  “But why is it so dangerous?”

  “Let’s say we’re chasing a suspect, and he’s hiding instead of running. With the pace Scout needs to maintain, the suspect could see us coming from a distance, and we could be running right at him without knowing it. It’s easy to get shot that way.”

  Cal called Scout back again as a little girl and her mother approached from the opposite direction. The girl pulled her hand free of her mother’s and ran toward them, giggling. Her mother called and ran after her but not fast enough; the little girl had already reached them and crouched down in front of Scout.

  Cal instructed Scout to stay while she petted and hugged him. The mother caught up to them. “I’m so sorry,” she said breathlessly, and obviously relieved that her daughter hadn’t been attacked by the unknown dog. “I always tell Cindy not to play with strange dogs, but it doesn’t do any good. She loves animals too much.”

  “No need to worry. Scout won’t harm her,” Cal said.

  “He’s a police dog,” Jessica added for the benefit of the obviously nervous young mother.

  With the woman relaxing, Cal couldn’t resist showing off a bit. He instructed Scout to do a few of his cuter tricks. The girl was in hysterics, and the mother was laughing, too, until she finally said they had to go.

  “Bye-bye, Scout,” Cindy said repeatedly, blowing kisses to the dog as her mother took her hand and led her off.

  Scout had had enough excitement and exercise, and Cal thought he might have overdone it for his first day without crutches. His thigh ached as if a dagger was being twisted in it as they headed back to his house, but no way was he going to let the doc know.

  Jessica was unusually quiet, too.

  “Everything okay?” Cal asked.

  “Oh...yes. I was just thinking... I’ve been concerned about Kayla...”

  Cal stopped abruptly and placed a restraining hand on Jessica’s arm. “What’s wrong with her? You said she was fine.”

  “Health-wise, yes. My concern has to do with her mental state. She’s withdrawn and becoming progressively more so since she went into the group home.”

  They started walking again, slowly.

  Without thinking, Cal took Jessica’s hand. It seemed so natural to him, and he liked the feel of her hand in his. Cal was thankful for the distraction, too, since his thigh was aching almost unbearably.

  He recalled the past couple of times he’d seen Kayla at the hospital. She’d always struck him as a serious child, especially for her age. But it occurred to him now that she’d seemed even quieter during his last visit. “Doesn’t Social Services have counselors for, you know, posttraumatic stress?”

  “They do, yes. And they’ve been working with her. But it doesn’t seem to be helping. Which brings me back to what I was think
ing. Just an idea...”

  They’d reached Cal’s house. He couldn’t prevent the groan of pain as he started up his back steps. Jessica immediately placed a hand under his right elbow. “You overexerted yourself, didn’t you?”

  There was no point in denying it. “I suppose.” They reached his deck and he paused to suck in a few deep breaths. Seeing the concern on her face, he was quick to reassure her. “I’m okay. Just a twinge.” He forced a smile. “But back to Kayla. What’s your idea?”

  “Why don’t we sit down so you can rest, and I’ll explain.” They sat on the chairs on his back deck, while Scout drank from his bowl and settled down to gnaw on his Kong.

  Jessica rested her elbows on her knees and leaned down to stroke Scout. “Seeing how that little girl, Cindy, reacted to Scout, how happy and excited she got, I was wondering if a therapy dog might lift Kayla’s spirits. I’ve seen those dogs do wonders with patients of all ages. In fact, we just had a new one register at the hospital. He’s an Alaskan malamute. I’m sure that dog weighs more than me, but he’s as gentle as a teddy bear. The owner moved to San Diego not too long ago, and she’s really interested in working with our patients on a volunteer basis.

  “Maybe I’ll see if she thinks she could work with Kayla. My only concern is his size. I’d worry the dog might be too intimidating for Kayla because she’s so small.”

  Cal grimaced as he stretched out his right leg and made a mental note to take it a little slower from now on. “Would I be able to bring Scout to the home she’s in?”

  Jessica looked confused. “Since he’s a police dog, I would think so.”

  He shook his head. “No, not as a police dog exactly.”

  “Sorry?”

  “As sort of a therapy dog—for Kayla. Or better yet, can we arrange to take Kayla to a park? She seemed comfortable with Scout at the earthquake site. It was Scout, actually, who pulled her out of the cavity she and her mother were trapped in. We could reintroduce her to Scout, and have him show her some of his tricks.” He gave Scout a quick succession of commands. Scout obliged, and Jessica laughed.