fisted his hands. Dale had helped rush the inquest, something Trent would never forgive him for. That was the reason Trent had challenged him for the position of chief of police.
“Dale retired three years ago.”
“Okay.” She stood there, hand still outstretched, waiting for him to drop her license.
“My name is Trenton Knight.”
She didn’t so much as blink in recognition. The name meant nothing to her.
“Anna Knight was my wife.”
Still no response. There was no change at all in Carmen Shields’s expression. He might as well have been speaking Greek. Had she completely forgotten the identity of the woman killed in the accident? Did the loss of life matter so little to her that she couldn’t be bothered to remember Anna’s name?
“She was killed seven years ago when an SUV driven by an intoxicated teenager ran a stop sign and plowed into her car. You were a passenger in that car.”
Carmen gasped, and he watched with grim satisfaction as the blood drained from her face. She staggered and placed a hand against her vehicle. “The woman in the other car died?”
“Yes. And our two daughters lost their mother.”
“I—I didn’t know.” She shook her head as if processing the information. “I didn’t know her name. No one would tell me anything.”
How could she not know Anna’s name or that she died? True, when Carmen had skipped town immediately following the inquest for the two teens from her vehicle who’d died in the accident, Anna was still fighting to live. But that was seven years ago. How could it be in all that time no one in the entire Shields family had felt Anna’s death was worth mentioning to her?
Anger surged through him and he spoke through gritted teeth. “She clung to life for nineteen days, fighting to live. Trying to stay with her family, who loved her. But her body had been battered too badly and she wasn’t strong enough to survive her injuries. She died in my arms.”
Carmen reached out her hands. He stiffened and stepped back. He wouldn’t be responsible for his actions if she touched him.
She paused and then folded her hands as if in prayer. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry for everything. If I could go back and change things, I would.”
“Your apology changes nothing.” He had half a mind to prolong this traffic stop and make her late for the funeral he now knew was for her mother. But he didn’t. Anna would never have approved of such a vengeful act. She’d been full of love and forgiveness, even for people who didn’t deserve it. He wouldn’t dishonor her memory by giving in to his hatred.
He dropped the license into Carmen’s hand. “Don’t speed while you’re in my town.” He strode away, determined to get away from her and the memories she awakened. But it was too late. Seeing her had ripped open the wound in his heart that had never completely healed.
Carmen stood apart from the dwindling group of mourners lingering beside her mother’s grave. She’d been close enough to hear the service, but far enough away to go unnoticed. Everything was over now. The preacher had prayed the last prayer and the final white rose had been placed upon the casket before it was lowered into the ground. One last neighbor hugged her sisters, patted her father on the shoulder and then left, leaving the sad trio alone.
A gentle breeze blew and a squirrel raced across the green grass. Carmen lifted her face to the clear blue sky. It was a perfectly beautiful day and it broke her heart that her mother wasn’t alive to enjoy it.
Rachel Shields had loved summertime, spending countless hours puttering in her garden. While their neighbors hired landscapers to design their flower beds and gardeners to maintain them, Carmen’s mother had done it all herself, despite her husband’s claim that such work was beneath the dignity of the Shields name. With flowers in every color imaginable in the numerous flower beds, the Shieldses’ gardens always outshone every yard in their neighborhood, if not the entire town. Rachel had claimed being surrounded by flowers made her happy. Now the only flowers around her were those dropped onto her casket. Soon they would be dead, too.
Carmen lowered her head and allowed the tears to fall. She’d lost so much precious time with her mother. Time she could never get back.
If only she could go back and change the events of that horrible night. She would have stayed away from those kids, would have gone to school and then straight home like she was supposed to. If she could have a do-over, she never would have started hanging out with that rowdy crowd in the first place.
But there was no magic eraser to remove the mistakes of her past. She could only move forward and make better decisions.
Swallowing more tears, Carmen eased closer to her family. Although she’d seen her father as he’d walked into the church between her two sisters, she was still shocked by the physical changes in him. The father she remembered had been tall and slightly overweight. Robust. He’d always been larger than life. Charles Shields had dominated every room he’d been in, throwing his weight around until he’d gotten his way. Now he looked like a strong wind could blow him over. Where he’d once been the man in charge, now he looked lost.
“Daddy,” Carmen said, her voice cracking. No one turned and she realized she’d whispered the word. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Daddy.”
Her father and sisters froze and then as one turned to stare at her. Charlotte, her oldest sister, looked at her with blank eyes, black mascara streaks on her face. Charmaine, the middle sister, gasped and blinked as if she’d seen a ghost.
Her father, however, looked at her for barely a second before turning and stalking to the limousine idling several yards away.
“Daddy, please,” she cried in anguish. “Please talk to me.” She grabbed the nearest headstone and leaned against it, her strength suddenly gone in the face of his total rejection. He hadn’t even hesitated. He’d simply looked at her—no, through her—and turned and walked away. Like she was a stranger.
Charmaine started toward Carmen, but Charlotte stopped her with a hand on her arm. Charlotte’s cold eyes drilled into Carmen, enlarging the hole in her soul. “This isn’t the time or the place. Daddy is grieving. He doesn’t need this drama now.”
“Drama? I don’t want to cause a scene or upset him. I just want to talk to him.” To have him wrap her in his arms the way he’d done when she’d fallen off her bike and scraped her knee so many years ago.
When she was a little girl, her daddy had been her hero. She’d worshipped him until she discovered his love was conditional. As long as she dressed the way he wanted and associated with the people he chose, his love was hers. When she’d rebelled and begun making her own choices, his love evaporated like dew in the sun. Still, a part of her always hoped he’d regret turning her away, and that once his anger cooled, he would welcome her back. But his anger and disappointment burned just as hotly now as they did seven years ago. He really had stopped loving her.
Charmaine pulled away from their older sister and came to stand before Carmen. Charmaine made no attempt to touch her, so she kept her own arms by her sides, despite how badly she needed a hug. “Carmen, please try to understand. Daddy’s hurting. He and Mama were married for thirty-five years. He’s still in shock over losing her so suddenly. Seeing you is another shock to him.”
“And I lost my mother,” Carmen added, hoping Charmaine could see how hurt and lost she felt. How alone.
“Isn’t that just like you?” Charlotte snarled. “After everything you put us through, you’re thinking only of yourself.”
“That’s not true,” Carmen protested, stepping closer to Charlotte. “I know you’re hurting as much as I am. I thought we could help each other through the grief.”