Free The Cold Nowhere by Brian Freeman Page A

fresh snow.
    ‘Did you talk to her about it?’ he asked.
    Michaela’s warm eyes never left her child. ‘All she does is giggle and say it’s a secret. She doesn’t understand. Marty brings her gifts and she hides them from me. What can I do? He’s her father, and she still loves him.’
    ‘The protective order says he can’t come near either of you,’ Stride said. ‘If he violates again, we can get him back behind bars.’
    ‘Don’t you think he knows that?’ Michaela asked. ‘He’s careful. He’s smart.’
    ‘If you see him, you call me.’
    ‘I never see him, but I know he’s been here.’
    She didn’t show fear, but he knew she was afraid. In the years Marty Gamble had spent in Michaela’s life, he’d beaten her savagely on multiple occasions. The last incident had cost him a third-degree assault conviction, with a sentence of almost two years, but he’d spent only forty-five days behind bars before his release on probation. The dirty secret of criminal prosecutions was that it was hard to spend any real time in prison without killing someone or using a gun.
    ‘You know what I’m going to tell you,’ Stride said. He’d encouraged her over and over to leave town. Run somewhere far away. Hide.
    ‘Yes, and you know how I feel about it, Jonathan. I’ve worked like hell to make a life for me and Catalina these past six years. To have a home. I won’t give it up because of him.’
    Stride wished she weren’t so stubborn, but he knew how she felt. His own cottage on the Point, with Cindy, was a hundred-year-old matchbox, and nothing ever worked. The winter wind sailed through the cracks. The roof leaked. Mice ran underneath the pilings and gnawed through the walls. Even so, they wouldn’t have lived anywhere else. Michaela felt the same way. She’d scraped together a down payment on a house that was barely larger than a trailer, in a section of the city known as the Antenna Farm. It was heavily wooded, with dirt roads, on the peak of a hillside only blocks from the downtown streets. Crossing into the Antenna Farm was like driving into the rural badlands. There was no money there. Michaela and Cat slept in two tiny bedrooms and shared a single bathroom and shower. It didn’t look like a dream, but for Michaela, that was exactly what it was. Her dream. Her escape.
    Leaving would have been as bad as dying.
    She put a cold hand on his face. She wasn’t even wearing gloves. ‘You look tired, Jonathan. I haven’t heard from you in weeks. I’ve been worried. Are you all right?’
    ‘It’s the long hours,’ he said. ‘Maggie and I have been working a home invasion case since before Christmas. We finally found the gun that killed the wife and recovered the stolen jewelry. It was an Asian gang member from the Cities. We got him off the streets for good. I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch, but I’ve been thinking about you.’
    ‘So have I. I saw Dr. Steve last week. I’m afraid I prattled on about you.’
    ‘I told Cindy that I was seeing you tonight. She said that you and Catalina should come for dinner soon.’
    Michaela smiled. ‘I’d like that. I would love to meet the woman who stole your heart.’
    When he said nothing, a cloud passed over Michaela’s face, as if she realized she’d said the wrong thing. She covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she went on. ‘I didn’t mean anything. Did you tell her that I … ?’
    ‘No, of course not.’
    ‘Thank you. I’m embarrassed.’
    ‘You shouldn’t be.’
    Michaela shivered in the cold for the first time. ‘Catalina!’ she called from the porch. ‘Come now, let’s go inside.’
    The girl pretended she didn’t hear her mother calling. She fell on her back, making a snow angel. Her cheeks were pink and wet.
    ‘Catalina!’ Michaela called again testily. She shook her head. ‘That child,’ she said to Stride.
    ‘As stubborn as her mother,’ he replied.
    Michaela laughed, and it made Stride wish that she