“Like looking at all the presents under the Christmas tree and knowing you’ll get to open them, but not until later,” he said, his voice a low, sleepy drawl. He’d told her he was in bed, too. In the dark.

  And nude.

  She was in her favorite nightgown. She had a child in the house and had already told him how she always slept with her door open. Wanted Bella to feel free and comfortable about crawling into bed with her if she wanted.

  “Yeah, like Christmas,” she said now, wishing he was there with her. “Except that at Christmastime, you only get to unwrap once and then the anticipation is over.”

  “You planning to unwrap over and over?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She chuckled. And then, thinking about the morning, sobered. “Josh thinks William’s going to reconsider the charges against him,” she said, treading a fine line. Greg couldn’t tell her what the prosecutor was going to do. Couldn’t tell her strategy. Not ethically.

  And she wouldn’t have him any other way.

  “I’d like to see him with Bella,” he came back, leaving her to read, or not read, more into the statement.

  “I could arrange a dinner here,” she said. “His next visitation is Wednesday night. You could join us.”

  “Let me think about it,” Greg said. “I’d need to be the one to set it up. And he’d have to agree. And frankly, I don’t see his lawyers allowing that. I wouldn’t. Your brother’s relationship with his daughter really has no bearing on this case.”

  Not on Greg’s side of it. She got that.

  “So why do you want to see them together?”

  “Because I want to see the man you see.”

  Scooting down further under the covers, she relaxed. Well and truly. For the first time since Josh had woken her up to tell her he was bringing his daughter to her. “You believe me now, don’t you? You see Heidi for who she is.”

  His silence could have been agreement. Or not. She didn’t ask. She didn’t need to. He believed her and was on their side.

  * * *

  Greg hung up the phone Sunday night, climbed out of bed and went in to lift weights. You see Heidi for who she is. Jasmine’s statement kept playing over and over in his mind.

  She was right. He did see. The things Heidi had told him about Jasmine and her relationships, that Jasmine was afraid of herself, of getting violent when things got intense, about her breaking up with her lovers when she did get that angry. Heidi had sounded so convincing because she’d been describing herself. He saw that now.

  And he wanted to believe, really wanted to believe that Josh Taylor was an innocent victim all the way. But he just couldn’t. The doctor’s report, the evidence that put Heidi at Josh’s house, not at the gym, at the time of the injury...and even the photo—it was the opposite wrist as Jasmine had said. When he’d asked Heidi about it, she’d produced another one of the other limb, saying that at first, Josh had grabbed both wrists. When he’d sprained her wrist, he’d only been holding the one.

  Not information he could or would share with Jasmine.

  So what if Heidi was lying about all of it? Not about being at Josh’s house—they had the neighbor’s security camera footage to prove that. But what if, on the way to the hospital, she’d paid someone to hold her wrists and then jerked herself away?

  Was he being ludicrous here? Thinking such thoughts?

  Or opening his mind to the truth as Jasmine had asked him to do? Open his mind to possibilities he’d never imagined.

  Like falling for a woman who, like Liv, had emotional residue from a tragic past to the point of not being able to have a committed traditional relationship? He wanted what his folks had, what they’d given him: a family. A happy home life. And maybe, just maybe he did want children of his own someday. Now that he was actually waking up to the fact that he didn’t want to go through life alone.

  He wanted to be biologically related to someone he knew.

  And here he was, nuts about a woman who wouldn’t give him any of those things.

  Life didn’t always fit the mold.

  But it usually fit. So...maybe Jasmine was right for him because she didn’t need what he didn’t have. She didn’t need someone right there in her world, her home, sharing everything with her in the moment, like Liv had needed. His lack of empathetic powers didn’t even seem to be an issue with her.

  And what about Josh and Heidi Taylor? Were they both abusive spouses? Or was he not looking in the right places for the truth?

  He worked out hard. Slept a little. And was already in the office when William arrived the next morning. Charges were pending against Heidi—another prosecutor would handle that case—and she was out of jail, having been warned to stay away from the Taylors or her bail could be revoked. Her visitation with her daughter would continue, in a playroom at Child Protective Services only. And for only one hour a week.

  William asked Greg to go talk to her. To find out if she’d be a credible enough witness to still take her case to court. He felt, as Greg did, that the evidence against Josh Taylor was too strong to ignore.

  “And what concerns me the most...” William started.

  “...is the fact that he continues to deny any culpability,” Greg finished for his friend and colleague. “If he admitted getting angry, grabbing her wrist to keep her from hitting him, we could maybe see a way to thinking that this was a onetime thing on his part and not an ongoing danger.”

  Not that the holding the wrist to avoid a blow theory was valid. The injury clearly showed that Heidi’s arm was down when she was grabbed.

  “My guess is he’s in denial, which is almost a guarantee of future violence, or he’s aware of his issues and hiding them,” William agreed, sipping from the coffee he’d brought in for the both of them. In a shirt and tie, and behind his desk, William looked impressive enough. But when he stood next to Greg in court, his five-foot-two frame next to Greg’s bulk, not so much.

  But anyone who underestimated William, or his ability to see right to the core of things, anyone who thought William didn’t have what it took to fight to the end no matter how bitter it got, would be making a huge mistake.

  “Either way, without accountability and counseling, he’s a danger out there.” Greg, who was sitting in his usual seat across from William, voiced a concern that had been gnawing at him with growing intensity.

  “Talk to Heidi,” William said. “Find out what’s going on with her. Try one more time to get her to admit there were other episodes with him.”

  “I witnessed something this weekend.” Greg had to speak up. Lives could be at risk. Jasmine and Bella’s lives. “An apathy to physical abuse, almost as though, as long as one came through it without major physical damage, it wasn’t a big deal. My take was that it comes from years of living with abuse as a way of life. Normalizing it. So maybe Josh has been exhibiting signs of abuse that no one paid attention to. Unexpected temper flares, for instance, that those close to him would be able to understand and explain away. Slamming a door hard enough to crack a door jamb, but maybe the jamb was old and loose anyway. Spinning the truth to suit him. Maybe, as this behavior has a tendency to do, his violence is escalating.”

  “Find out.”

  He nodded. And then continued, needing to check himself in with William. “One of the things the High-Risk Team looks for is a trigger for the escalation. Usually it’s financial worry, alcohol or drug addiction, a breakup. Josh Taylor has none of those.”

  He showed no patterns, from what Greg could see. And he’d seen a lot over the past couple of weeks, just by talking to Jasmine. And looking into Josh Taylor’s personal affairs. Everyone who knew the guy seemed to love him. Greg had been to Play for the Win headquarters. Had asked discreet questions around some of the gyms—posing as a man looking to place his son.

  He couldn’t help thinking that maybe Jasmine was right. That Josh was being set up by a woman who wasn’t getting what she wanted. Heidi didn’t have Josh. Or her daughter. And, though she’d gotten a settlement in her divorce, it hadn’t been as much as she’d might have won had she not been abusive to her ex-husband. To the contrary, Josh Taylor, of his own accord, had been more than generous with her, considering the circumstances.

  Still, she wasn’t living as comfortably as she once had.

  “Evidence speaks,” William said. “Maybe instead of looking for proof of abuse, you need to look for whatever it is that’s frustrating Josh Taylor.”

  It was the thought he’d woken with that morning. And now had the confirmation he’d been seeking that he was on the right path.

  “Start with Heidi,” William suggested again. “She might tell you something if you ask the right questions.” And then he grinned. “But you already planned to do that, didn’t you?”

  Greg didn’t answer. He made a six-foot shot with his empty coffee cup into the trash can.

  They had a status hearing with the court in a week and three days. William would be talking to Josh’s defense prior to that to try to reach a settlement agreement. If Josh would just admit that he’d lost his temper and agree to counseling, this would all go away.

  And then he wouldn’t have to go find the trigger that had set the whole thing in motion. Because as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, Greg knew it was out there.

  “Just let me know whether I’ll be doing this with or without Heidi’s testimony,” William said. He was leaving it up to Greg to decide if Heidi was still going to be a credible witness.

  Greg nodded. Paid attention as he and the prosecutor discussed several other cases on the docket. Made a mental list of the actionable items he’d be taking out of the discussion. And went out to do his job.

  * * *

  Jasmine called her counselor Monday afternoon. Dr. Bloom Freelander worked with The Lemonade Stand but had a private office in Santa Raquel. A victim herself, Dr. Freelander had almost died at the hands of her ex-husband. These days she was married to the cop who’d investigated her now-ex. Things weren’t always rosy. But in the end, she’d trusted Sam. And that trust hadn’t been misplaced.

  It happened. Survivors were capable of loving and being loved. Not all were destined for marriage and children. But Jasmine could still love and be loved, too, couldn’t she?

  “It’s all about the trust,” Bloom told her when they met Tuesday after school at The Lemonade Stand, where the gifted psychiatrist had offered to meet Jasmine. “Abuse strips you of your trust in yourself, which emanates outward. The only way to truly and happily love and be loved is to find a way to trust again.”

  They talked about Desmond, and Wynne, and Noah. About her untrustworthy track record when it came to choosing lovers.

  And about the fact that Wynne had been the one to end the one incident of verbal abuse. To get help. That she and Jasmine were still good friends. That Wynne was in a healthy relationship with someone more suited to her. And that Wynne was making wonderful contributions to society, too.

  Jasmine had chosen wrong in terms of a relationship with that one. But she hadn’t chosen a systematic abuser.

  As the hour moved by, Jasmine’s confusion grew. She’d wanted reassurance. A pat on the head. She’d wanted to be told she was allowed to be excited about her new friendship with Greg. That she was making a good choice that would serve her and her family well.

  “I wish there was a magic bullet,” Bloom said, her long auburn curls a compliment to the colorful scarf she wore with the light purple suit. “An ability to trust isn’t something that I, or anyone else, can give you. It has to come from within you. But in my opinion, you’re heading in the right direction. You’re open to finding an ability to trust, which is the first step. And just as important, you’re aware of your challenges,” she said, her smile taking any sting there might have been in that last confirmation.

  Yes, Jasmine had challenges.

  “Do you think there’s a possibility that I am capable of choosing a good man to spend time with?” She sat in one of the many homey little rooms used for private conversations at the Stand. Though fabrics and styles were different, each had a couch, a chair or two, a coffee table and plenty of tissues.

  “Absolutely.” Bloom’s response gave Jasmine the first easy breath she’d taken since she’d walked over from her classroom.

  “I don’t want to live with a partner again. Things change. People change. You never know what’s going to come out in someone. Or what they might not be showing you.”

  “There are people who love each other and still maintain separate lives as well. If that’s the choice that makes you happy, then it’s the right one for you. I’d urge you to be honest from the outset, though...”

  “I was.” She stopped. “I am,” she said. And then, looking into Bloom’s compassionate, knowing eyes, she told her all about Greg. About her brother’s case. About the investigator who was open to seeing the truth. About feelings so intense they couldn’t be denied. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before,” she told Bloom, letting the excitement, the genuine joy out as she talked.

  It wasn’t perfect. It was complicated, just like Greg had said.

  “But I want it,” she told Bloom.

  “Then go for it.”

  “You think it’s the right thing to do?”

  Bloom just looked at her.

  “You can’t tell me what’s right.” Jasmine said what she’d been told many times in the past. “Only I can make that choice for myself.”

  “We’re all in this life together.” Bloom repeated something Jasmine had heard before. “And each of us has our own unique journey to complete.”

  “So, let me ask you this. Do you see any obvious signs that I’m committing emotional suicide here? Or any signs that I’m falling back into my old patterns?”

  “Do you?”

  “I don’t,” she said, frustrated, and yet understanding, too. She wanted guarantees. Safeguards. There weren’t any. “I really don’t.”

  “Then that’s all the answer you need.”

  In one sense, the meeting had been a waste of time. She hadn’t had any huge insights—she, with Bloom’s guidance, had already done that work—nor had she received the permission she’d been seeking. But Jasmine left the appointment with clarity anyway.

  There were no sure things. But she was alive, aware and determined to live, in spite of the possibility of making mistakes.

  She was also, like anyone who’d learned from their mistakes, better prepared this time around.

  Chapter 18

  He found Josh Taylor’s trigger: having his daughter around anyone who had any kind of a temper. Heidi let it all fly that week when Greg met with her. She opened up about the fights that she and Josh had had over the past six months, the time he’d held her up against a wall so she didn’t go down the hall and open her daughter’s bedroom door to tell her goodbye when Josh had told her she had to leave. He hadn’t trusted her to say a quiet goodbye to the sleeping child.

  The time he’d shoved her out the back door, causing her to fall on her knees and then shutting the door with her foot still in the jamb. Luckily she’d had on hiking boots and hadn’t been seriously hurt. That time she’d been going off on him about his refusal to even consider petitioning the courts to grant her partial custody.

  There were others. Every time she’d been pushing him about Bella. Getting upset with him. And every time, he’d been contrite afterward. Offering to let her stay over so she could spend quality, in-home time with her daughter.

  Greg met with her twice that week, getting dates and times as accurately as she could remember. Some were spot-on, based on memories she had of where she’d been or what she’d been doing, like having to cancel a walkathon the day after her foot had been shut in the door because the appendage was too sore. He followed up the interrogation with more security-camera digital footage requests for new dates and times. Asking Heidi for various receipts, which she could provide for him. Checking phone records for repeated calls from Josh that had come to her after each incident. Looking up text messages. It was all there. Not one thing that didn’t fit.

  Claiming that Josh and Jasmine had her trapped and were egging her on so they could take Bella from her permanently, and because of the new charges against her, she was willing to give Greg everything. Her story was that she still loved Josh, and didn’t want him in jail or even out of her life, which was why she hadn’t talked about the other times she’d suffered abuse All she’d wanted was shared custody of Bella. Greg had let it be known to her that her testimony in one case could help her defense in the other.

  Every night that week, he also spoke with Jasmine. Hearing how her day went. Giving her what he could of his. His work was going to cause her great pain. And yet, in the end, it could save her or Bella’s lives. Josh’s violence was escalating. His frustration.

  And he had to know he was a danger. That was why he’d asked Jasmine to take Bella. It was all adding up.

  Why he wouldn’t just admit he was struggling and go into counseling, Greg could only guess. He hoped like hell that with all the new evidence, the man would agree to a plea deal during the settlement conference the next week.

  In the meantime, he ached to hold Jasmine. To taste her again. So much so that on Thursday night he drove to Santa Raquel, called her and asked if he could just stop by for a minute. He was leaving the next day for a weekend in Seattle to attend a function with his parents and just needed to see Jasmine before he left.

  He knew that, until the court case the following week, she’d be safe. Josh’s whole life was about keeping his daughter safe. And in his mind, her safety meant Jasmine. Besides, he couldn’t see either of them without his caseworker present. And lastly, Jasmine was currently giving him what he needed—nightly access to Bella via video calling—and all the support a guy could ever want.