Open Wounds

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Prologue

Dean stood as the funeral guests all disseminated away from the two holes in the earth. He glanced over at the most impossibly small casket he had ever seen and wondered at what had brought him to this place. Was this his fault? Had he pushed too hard? Wasn’t it supposed to be that the good guys had enough karma on their side not to have to endure something this horrific? How was he supposed to carry on after this?

Five long nights ago would officially go down as the worst in his lifetime. He made a solemn vow here and now that he would never care enough for another human to feel this kind of gut-wrenching, soul-baring pain again.

“How are you holding up,” his partner Eric asked, coming alongside him, with a solid clap on the shoulders? They had been riding together since the academy and had even gotten their detective shields together. ‘

They made the best of teams, and their arrest record and upstanding ethics awards were some of his proudest accomplishments. On the verge of putting away a serial killer that had been holding his city hostage for nearly a year now, this had stopped him dead in his tracks. There was no overcoming, getting past, or moving on from this.

He reached inside his long trench coat until his hand wrapped around the cold metal. He closed his eyes as a single tear erupted over the bottom lid and slid down his cheek. He had only ever wanted to be a cop, and what he did now was uncertain. The only thing he knew beyond all reasonable doubt was his career as an officer was over.

Withdrawing the badge, he looked over at Eric. “It’s been fun, and it’s been real,” he said with a small nod as the tears came bursting forth. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” Eric said, looking him dead in the eye. “I’m the one that should be sorry. The task force should be sorry – you have nothing to be sorry for. You pushed, and we nearly had him,” he said, glancing sideways at Mayce and Gracelyn’s graves. “We are going to get justice for your wife and daughter, Dean. When you are ready, we will get him!”

Dean shook his head, “No,” he said, holding out the badge. “I’m done. I’m leaving town.”

“Dean, you are in no position to make any decisions. Go see the therapist the department provides and take some time.”

“There will never be a day where being here without them is possible,” he said firmly.

“Where will you go?”

“I packed the house last night and put what I could in the truck,” he said, glancing over at the huge ford with the blue tarp covering the back. “The rest of the stuff, the Salvation Army truck is picking up today, and I arranged a neighbor to help with that. I listed the house with Annie in town, and I’m going to drive until it’s time to stop.”

“Are you sure about this?” Eric asked quietly.

Dean nodded. “You’ve been a wonderful partner, and I love you for it,” he said, reaching out to hug him close. “I’ll let you know where I land.”

“Okay. Know that should you ever decide that you want back in, no matter when that happens,” Eric let the sentence hang. “I hope you find some peace out there and a place to call home again.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Can you do me a solid and check in on them from time to time?” He glanced back at the freshly dug holes six feet into the ground, side by side.

“Will do,” Eric replied without any hesitation.

Without another word, Dean headed for the truck, put it into the drive, and headed west without a backward glance.

Chapter 1

Five years later

Dean finished with the AA group session and immediately vacated his seat to head for the truck. A veteran named Jack jogged up alongside him and almost got decked when he laid a hand on him. Dean turned, ready for a fight, and dropped his shoulders when he saw the man’s face.

“I wanted to say good-bye,” Jack said, holding out his hand for a shake.

Dean furrowed his brow at him, “where are you going?’

“I’ve decided to join my son and grandkids in Fort Lauderdale? It’s time to quit running and join the human race again,” he said with a chuckle. “Advice, you might want to take to heart, my friend. You are looking good these days, but those eyes still tell a sad tale for sure.”

Dean sighed, “I doubt that is going to change. I gave up drinking after spending two years at the bottom of a bottle. That should be considered progress, right?”

“Yeah, but your heart was never in the drinking,” Jack scowled at him. “Most of us picked up side vices like women, gambling, or the like. You just drank, not to feel.”

“I know and would still be doing so if Rex and Mrs. Minitz hadn’t set me straight. The thought of losing the only two people left in the world I care about – well, it brought me to you guys every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday for the last few years.”

“Only time you leave the ranch, except for supplies, I bet?”

“Hey, cows and pigs don’t give you lip or sass back,” he said with a grin.

“They also can’t keep you warm at night or make you want to do something crazy like dance, love, or travel” Jack admitted. “I’m looking forward to having rugrats around again. Keeps a man young.”

“Well, I wish you all the luck in the world,” Dean said. His eyes were getting a bit misty when the word rugrats made Gracelyn’s face come to the front of his mind. “I miss my rugrat every day and would give anything to be able to chase her around one last time.”

“Take some advice from an old man,” Jack said. “Don’t let your life be defined by what happened to your wife and daughter. They wouldn’t want that. Find something to care about again and love like there is no tomorrow. Because someday you will have to meet your family again, and they might not recognize you with those big bags under your eyes.”

“Point taken,” Dean said.

He had tried to move on but unfortunately had several missteps along the path. Now at least he wasn’t drinking, and he could get through days with hard work on the ranch, chatting up Rex and dinners with Mrs. Minitz. It was a simple life, but a good one, and he saw no reason to change it.

“You ever call that old partner of yours?”

“I did about six months ago,” Dean said as a genuine smile crossed his face. “It was great catching up with him, and I appreciate the not so gentle shove to make that happen.”

“Well,” Jack said, clapping a hand on his back. “I was glad to be of a little assistance, after all the help you were with Rex out at the Ranch. You brought him back to life and, I think, became the son he never had. You take care of him and Mrs. Minitz, and heed my words – find a nice girl someday.”

“I will take care of Rex and Mrs. Minitz,” he returned. “I had the love of my life once. I think I would just be selfish expecting anyone to come along to rival that.”

“Just never close the door,” Jack finished. “And if you ever find yourself in Florida, look me up.”

“Will do,” Dean said as he watched the hunched man walk to his truck.

Jack and he had started the program about a year apart. Military service, his wife's loss, and a host of other concerns had driven Jack to the bottle. And the birth of his first granddaughter motivated him to climb out of it. Dean was lucky to have had his support during his first years sober and would miss him a bunch. People either were lifers here in Wyoming, living on the land or like Jack and him hiding from something, where no one could find you. He had no plans to change his status, and Wyoming would remain his home. Heading to his truck, he remembered a couple of items he needed to stop and pick up before heading back to the ranch in time for evening chores.

Luckily for him, hard work and lots of time spent contemplating the wide-open spaces had granted him some serenity. While he would never fully come to peace with his family's deaths, he somehow found the courage to build new ties to Rex and this land. It was enough for him, despite what anyone else’s thoughts might be on the matter.

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