Free Fixing Perfect by Therese M. Travis Page A

something like this stop him.
    Again.
    “Lost him.” Panting, Bricker dropped next to him and grabbed Sam’s elbow. “Let’s get you to the emergency room.”
    “I let him go.”
    “What? Can’t understand you.”
    This time Sam enunciated each word. “I let him go.”
    “Yeah, he broke your nose. I’d have had to do the same thing.” Bricker studied him as they trudged across the park. “It wasn’t a choice, Sam. He got away. It happens. Even to cops.”
    But Sam imagined the look in Robin’s eyes when he confessed.
     
    
     
    He walked the street without really seeing it, his mind on his last set of pictures. The residential part of town was all cramped together houses, anyway, a few gardens squeezed in, with cheesy nautical ornaments. No true beauty. No wonder they didn’t understand his vision. What would it take to make them see?
    Someone shouted, “Hi.”
    He looked up.
    That kid Robin liked so much stumbled toward him, waving his only usable arm and shouting something that might have been his name. He glanced around. How easy would it be to lure the kid away, up his secret path? There was no one on the street. No one to point and claim it was him; he’s the one.
    He hurried up to the kid, making his smile as big and natural as he could get it. A wasted effort, really. The kid wasn’t smart enough to figure things out.
    “Hey, Kerry.”
    “Hi. Hi. Are you going for a walk, too? My mom said I could get licorice.” He held up a dollar crumpled in his fist.
    A man came around the corner.
    No chance now, but it didn’t matter. He had his eye on Kerry, now. He remembered how much Robin liked him. He’d make plans.
    And he could get to Kerry at any time.
     
    
     
    The next Wednesday, Robin and Sam met again for lunch.
    Robin took the cold bottle of Italian cherry soda Sam handed her and watched him slump on the bench next to her.
    Putting the mouth of his bottle to his lips, he took a long pull. He still wore the bits of bandage over his nose, and drinking looked painful.
    But he wouldn’t talk about the incident, only looked murderous when she brought it up. So she didn’t. He’d talk about it when he was ready, and if he never was, well, time would heal some of the pain.
    When he put down the bottle, he stared away from her, and Robin followed his gaze across the bay.
    Wind whipped white froth off the tips of the waves, so it looked like snow topping glassy turquoise and greens, and wafted seagulls into a gentle dance under a few clouds.
    “Looks like paradise, doesn’t it?”
    “Always. I love this island.”
    She unwrapped the packet of sandwiches, handed one over, and pulled a bag of oatmeal and raisin cookies from her backpack. Now to make another judgment call—ask or keep silent. But silence wasn’t her game, and it never helped anyone as far as she knew. She took a deep breath. “What’s wrong, Sam?”
    He stiffened and shrugged. “Nothing, really. I just got done talking to Kerry’s mother.”
    “Why? What happened?” The muscles in her back tensed and her shoulders snapped into a straight line. She could take on whatever bad news Sam had for her. She had to, even when it came to Kerry.
    “Hey, it all turned out all right.” Sam put his hand on her knee. Something that felt like warm honey trickled through her veins. “Kerry’s fine. But you know how trusting he can be.” Sam glanced up, the pain in his eyes almost flattening her.
    “Oh, no.” Her whisper barely made it to her own ears. She doubted Sam could have heard her, but he must have read her expression.
    “He’s OK, Robin. Yeah, he nearly got snagged by the creep, but someone saw.” Sam bent his head. “If I’d caught that guy the other night, this probably wouldn’t have happened, but God covered for me.”
    “You don’t know it was the same guy, Sam. The guy who got away might have just lifted some tourist’s wallet. You don’t know .”
    Head shaking, Sam re-wrapped his sandwich. He